


You are not alone

by Jikeda



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Depressed Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kind of slow but meh, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Character Death, Office Worker Dean Winchester, Platonic BDSM, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Slow Burn, Trying to ignore the feelings never works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jikeda/pseuds/Jikeda
Summary: “Dean.” Castiel’s firm voice brought him back into the moment, and he was surprised to find Castiel staring at him from only an inch or so away. He could feel the professor’s breath on his face as he gently, yet firmly told him; “You are not alone.”Dean used to be okay. He used to be normal. But then the thing happened, and he wasn’t anymore. Now he was just a shell, weak and useless and stupid, constantly having these breakdowns.Then he meets the professor delivering the training that Jody talked him into - and somehow, the guy is so kind and calming, and it helps. But Dean is scared, because he’s too broken, he’ll just hurt the people around him if they get too close.Can Castiel help Dean forgive himself and heal?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 90
Kudos: 94





	1. Change

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, been awhile since I wrote anything, but here I am. Slamming down a heavy as hell first chapter. I was going to wait and post the complete work, but, well, I didn’t. 
> 
> Just want to say I appreciate constructive criticism, definitely. Just, please be gentle with this one. Because, it’s based on true events that I lived, and I chose to write it as a Destiel fiction in the hope that having some control to change the ending will be a good therapy, and help me move past it. 
> 
> Also, I am aware that ‘You are not alone’ is a thing the actors do - but this has nothing to do with that, it has everything to do with the person who said those words to me.
> 
> Anyway I hope the story is enjoyable. Comments make my heart fluffy, please let me know your thoughts. Tags will be added as the story progresses.

"Yes sir, that's correct." Dean spoke into the microphone of the headset he wore, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Just complete the form, print it, then post it to the address at the bottom and we'll get that change of name sorted for you."

**_“In 28 days, correct? It better be, I don’t want to be waiting another six months.”_ **

_Well, if you had just done what you were told in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this problem._ Dean thought with frustration, but he didn’t voice his feelings or let them creep into his tone as he answered the client. He was getting better at doing that.

“Yes sir, 28 days after we receive your mail. Now, was there anything further I could assist you with today?”

**_“No, that’s all for today. Thanks.”_ **

_Click_

“Oh yeah sure, bye then.” Dean grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

He quickly typed a few notes into the client’s file, keeping them short and factual as he had learnt, then he closed off the interaction and slid the headset off to drop onto the desk beside him. He huffed out a breath and dropped his head into his hands, resting his elbows on the desk as he took a few moments to just breathe.

The last call wasn’t particularly hard; it was just a guy who was too dumb to follow instructions properly, and mad at the world for it. He had started the call yelling, but eventually calmed down enough to write down the instructions Dean had given. All in all, it had gone well – yet Dean was still sitting here feeling overwhelmed from a simple interaction.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He thought to himself, his fingers curling in his hair tight, just enough to cause a little pain – just enough to push back the sting at the edges of his eyes. _You can’t do this, you can never do this. You’ll never be good enough. Stupid-_

A hand touching his shoulder made him jump and yelp in shock. He spun his head around, his shock instantly changed to anger – only to see his supervisor staring at him with an eyebrow raised and a concerned expression on her face as she sat in the chair beside him. He hadn’t even noticed her approach.

“Difficult call?” Jody asked quietly.

“No. Nope. I’m just-” Dean waved a hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture; he trusted Jody and got along with her well, but he couldn’t explain something that even he didn’t understand. “I’m fine, Jodes. I’ll get back to it in a second.”

Jody’s lips thinned as she stared him down, crossing her arms over her chest in the standard ‘Don’t bullshit me’ that Dean had gotten to know pretty damn well over the last year at Alderton. She tended to see straight through his excuses and misdirection, much to his annoyance.

“No, you won’t. Dean, I had to call your name five times and you didn’t hear me once.” Jody paused, giving Dean a chance to argue. He didn’t, and it seemed to take the wind out of her. “Log out and come with me.” Jody sighed, then she got up and went to her own desk.

_Well, shit. This is it. You’ve gone and gotten yourself fired. Well done, idiot._

Dean tried to pull himself together as he turned back to his screen. Regardless of what happened next, this one thing he could at least accept with dignity, he thought. He mechanically closed down all of the programs on his computer, logged off, and waited until the screen went black before he gathered his things and stood.

His co-worker and friend, Charlie, shot him a questioning look from the desk beside his. Dean glanced at her screen, saw that she was on a call, and shook his head. It was probably better – he wanted to avoid breaking down, if he could. He had spent far too much time in the last year having breakdowns at work and, honestly, he was surprised his dismissal had taken this long.

He gave the redhead a half smile and shrugged, then mimed texting, letting her know that he would tell her later. Charlie understood the message and gave him a thumbs up, then returned to her work – though Dean could see her shoot him a concerned look after a few moments had passed.

Dean took a steeling breath, then made his way to Jody’s desk. She saw him approach and stood, nodding her head toward the hallway, away from the muted conversation from the hundreds of agents around them. Dean followed, trepidation increasing with every step – by the time Jody ushered him into a small meeting room, he was visibly shaking, and he hated it. He hated that he was so weak and dumb that he would completely lose it, just because he was losing his job. He was a grown man, he should be better than this.

“Sit” Jody told him lightly, and took the seat across from him.

Dean took a breath and did as he was told. He put his hands on his knees, under the desk – trying to stop the shaking.

“Dean, are you okay?” Jody started, frowning at him with concern.

“Look… Jodes.” Dean sighed out a breath, and shook his head. “You don’t have to do the whole conversation thing. I get it, I can’t expect to hold a job down while I keep having these episodes. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t come sooner. So, let’s just make this easier on both of us and I’ll leave now.”

Dean started to stand, but was shocked when a hand on his shoulder pushed him down. Jody had reached across to stop him standing, and she currently had confusion and anger written on her face.

“Dean Winchester don’t you dare leave this room. You’re not being fired, for the love of god.” Jody snapped and rolled her eyes. “I swear to god if you don’t stop putting yourself down…”

“What, you’ll fire me?” Dean snipped with a slight grin, a tiny light of his old humour.

Jody just rolled her eyes, huffed a long suffering sigh, and dropped back into her chair.

“Cut the crap, Winchester. I know you.” She sighed, and Dean watched as the anger slipped away, replaced with pity. “I don’t get you, though. You’re good at your job – one of the best here.” Dean scoffed, but she held up a hand to stop him. “You are, Dean. I wish you could see yourself the way you truly are.”

She paused, and dean dropped his eyes, his mouth twisting in annoyance. He wasn’t anything special, and he wasn’t as good as the others. Jody just had a soft spot for him; he knew that, no matter how much she groused at him. For some reason, she cared, and that scared him. Because he was bad, poison, broken. She would just get hurt if she cared about him.

“So, what did you drag me in here for, if not to fire my ass?” Dean questioned, wanting to move the conversation on.

“I want you to take the rest of the week off.” Jody told him, her gaze brooking no argument. “It’s paid, and it’s not coming out of your leave, so don’t argue. I’ve sorted it out with the rostering team.”

Dean frowned, surprised. He didn’t know how Jody could have swung that – being that it was a Tuesday afternoon, that meant three days off. And then a thought came to mind, one that he voiced next.

“What’s the catch?”

“It’s not a catch, really; It will beneficial for you-“

“Jody.” Dean grumbled, and she sighed.

“Fine. I also want you to take the voluntary training they’re offering. It starts on Monday and runs for two weeks, full pay.” Jody slid a folder over to him, and he glanced down at it. “It could get you into payroll. I know that’s something you wanted to do.”

Dean stared at her for a few moments, apprehensive. He was also surprised that she remembered that – he’d mentioned it in passing, when he got put into her team and she asked what his goals were. However, Jody tilted her head to the folder, so he glanced down at it again. He read over some of the things in the folder – a description of the training, topics and requirements, things like that – then he glanced back up at her with a pained expression.

“Don’t you even dare say you can’t do it, Dean. I know you can – you’re smart, and you can manage this easily. And it can open up so many opportunities.”

Dean shook his head, not believing what Jody was telling him. He was about to tell her no, no way, but her next words caught him off guard.

“Please, Dean. At least try.”

“Fine.” He sighed, giving up. “Whatever.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Sammy, I’m home!” 

Dean called out as he let himself into the apartment they shared. He dropped his keys into the little bowl that sat on the table beside the door, then made his way down the hall and into the little kitchen. The apartment was silent, and the coffee machine sat clean and ready to brew, just as he had left it this morning. Sam obviously wasn’t home yet. Relief and disappointment flooded through him, warring with each other and confusing his scattered mind even more.

He sighed softly to himself as he flicked the coffee machine on, and took a few moments to listen to the soft gurgle it made as the pot slowly filled with fresh coffee. He turned and leaned back against the counter, letting himself relax, letting his mind wander – which was the exact moment his phone chose to ring.

He barely glanced at the screen before he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hey Charles.” He grumbled.

_“Dean! Are you okay? What happened?”_

“I’m fine, Charlie” Dean chuckled softly, using his shoulder to press the phone to his ear while he poured himself a cup from the brimming pot of coffee. “I’m not fired.”

_“Oh, thank god. I was gonna lose my shit. So what happened?”_

“Nothing bad, I guess. Jodes gave me the rest of the week off, and signed me up for some training thing. Starts on Monday, goes for two weeks. Gave me another pamphlet for the counselling crap they offer and tried to convince me to do it again.”

Charlie was silent on the other end of the phone for a beat. Dean took a sip of his coffee, giving her a moment to think as he knew she tended to do. He sighed softly in contentment as the coffee warmed his chest, and moved over to drop into the couch.

“ _Will you be okay with the training? I know you don’t really like change…_ ” Charlie’s voice trailed off, as though she wanted to say more but was being careful. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. If I have another of my episodes I’ll just lock myself in the bathroom.” Dean answered with a grimace.

Charlie had seen his episodes more times than he could count, and as much as he didn’t like how much she knew about it, it had started their friendship. He could at least be grateful for that, even if he didn’t like being weak around anyone. It helped, in that she would often cover for him when he had an episode.

“ _Dean, we talked about that. Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? If you just talked to someone-_ “

“I don’t need a shrink.” Dean snapped, then immediately felt bad. “Look, I’ll be fine. Maybe I just have to, I dunno, up my meds or something. I’ll talk to the doc about it.”

“ _I don’t know that more medication is the way to go. And a lot of people need therapy, Dean, it doesn’t mean-_ “

“Look, it’s fine. I’m fine. I gotta go, Charlie.”

“ _Fine, but Dean, you better text later so I know you’re okay._ ”

“Yeah yeah, fine. Bye.” 

Dean barely waited for her to answer before he ended the call and dropped the phone on the couch beside him. He dropped his head back on the cushions and sighed to himself. Everyone wanted him to see a shrink, and for what? A shrink would just write him off and lock him up.

He was beyond help, beyond saving. He used to be okay – sure, he was always emotionally repressed, but it worked for him. He used to be able to do any job, anything, and do it well. He used to be confident, popular, a general smart ass. The old Dean would take anything with a grain of salt, blow it off with a sarcastic comment and a bottle of whiskey.

But he’d changed. Ever since that one moment, so many years ago, yet not long enough that he’d forgotten.

He had been working a normal shift at the fire station. Benny had made dinner and the crew were sitting down to eat, laughing and shoving each other, stealing food as normal. Sammy had been teasing him about his latest hit and miss, a girl that had turned him down at the regular club they all went to, blowing off steam after a long week.

They’d been relaxed, having fun – until the call came in. Benny had gone to take it, rolling his eyes as he told them it was probably a cat up a tree again – and then Dean had watched as the man went pale, then shit hit the fan. Benny was yelling, food went flying as the crew dove into work mode. They’d donned and gotten in the truck in less than sixty seconds, and Sammy had flicked the lights and siren on as the truck left the building at full speed.

Benny had given them a run down on the way – the district over had upgraded to a fourth alarm and were calling in help. They needed a search and assist – Dean’s least favourite, because it meant they had to get in, and get in fast. Usually in these cases people got hurt.  
  
Dean was the one who broke through the burnt door of the building, Benny by his side. As the chief, Benny should have been at the truck, but he never asked his crew to do anything he wouldn’t do. So they’d gained access, broken their way through the still burning family home, until they came across the scene Dean would never forget.

He’d tried. He’d fought so damn hard to get the woman out, to save her, but she kept fighting as he’d tried to lift her off the floor. It was only when she had managed to push him away that she’d been able to show him what she’d been protecting. She’d pushed the small bundle into his hands, and passed out. 

And that was the crucial moment. The moment that he knew he should have just hefted the bundle and called for Benny to help, to drag her out. Instead he hesitated, making Benny come forward to get his attention, to snap him back to reality – making Benny step right onto a piece of flooring that gave way, sending him sprawling with a sickening crack.

And Dean, damn him, couldn’t get them both out. He couldn’t save Benny, who was stuck with a broken leg, and the woman who was unconscious. So he’d called for help through his radio, and dragged Benny out to safety with one hand, the bundle in the other arm.

Outside, he’d just waited – he should have handed the bundle off and gone back in, but no. He’d gotten Benny to the paramedics, then pulled the blankets away from the bundle in his arms – to find a baby, maybe six months old, staring at him. The baby had a mask over it’s face, the kind that construction workers wore – and when dean removed it, the little girl started to cry and fuss in his arms.

The medics had jumped into action when they heard the noise, and the little girl was whisked away. Confused and crying, but safe and unharmed. He’d waited, and waited, watching the door, refusing offers of water – but when the rest of his crew had exited with the woman, he knew she was gone. He’d failed, and left a baby without its mother.

And that was the first time he’d had an episode.

Dean blinked tears away from his eyes as he came back to himself, slumped on the couch, coffee cold in his hands. He hated these moments, when the memories overwhelmed him and left him useless, heading into another episode. He tried to fight it, he always tried, but he couldn’t stop it. He was too weak.

He could hear his breath coming too fast – feel the way his mind was going blank, and his world was narrowing. But he knew how to stop it, how to make himself feel better, even as he hated himself for it. He’d figured it out by accident, months ago, then kept doing it.

His hands were almost mechanical as he pulled the knife and lighter from his pocket. 


	2. Enter Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean starts his first day of training and meets Castiel.
> 
> He follows some advice from Charlie, and what he learns is more than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I probably should have waited to post the second chapter but I was on a roll and have exactly zero self control, so here it is.

Dean spent most of his time off for lack of a better word, moping. He had locked himself into his room on Tuesday afternoon and stayed there, ignoring Sam knocking on the door to ask if he was okay.

Wednesday passed much the same. He’d waited until Sam had left for work, then finally come out for more than a bathroom break. After a quick glance through the cupboards and fridge, he’d gone grocery shopping. He bought enough to make sure Sam had plenty to eat, gotten home and packed it away, then retreated back to his room and shut the world out.

Thursday, he’d gone to see the doctor. She’d refused to up his medication, telling him that he was on a high dose as it was, and writing another referral for him to see a psychologist. He’d taken it and thanked her, but it was guaranteed to be lost in the glove compartment with the others.

Friday night he was pulled out of his misery by one red headed annoyance. Charlie had picked the lock on his bedroom door and marched in, hauling him out while ignoring his protests and general grumpiness. He’d been forced to sit and eat, with both Sam and Charlie watching him with concern.

Once he’d finished eating, he’d been forced onto the couch while the TV was set up, and they ended up watching A new hope for probably the fifteenth time. He’d slowly relaxed as the night progressed, and found himself enjoying the company and laughing along with Sam and Charlie as they poked fun at the dated graphics.

Saturday and Sunday were a little easier. Saturday morning had found him underneath his beautiful, calming baby – working on the impala helped in ways that nothing else could, and he found himself giving her a complete service while humming along to the tunes of Metallica that came from the speakers in the garage.

Sunday he was back to his normal self, although Sam was still careful around him. He didn’t mention it – of course his brother would be careful, he was weak and fragile, and who knew when he’d have another episode? So he ignored it, just trying to act as normal as possible while he grilled burgers for their dinner. The evening had been enjoyable – just him and Sam, eating burgers and drinking beer while Sam told him the funny stories from his new position as Team Leader at Alderton’s. 

Then all too soon it was Monday, and with the new day, back came the simmering panic.

Dean kept it cool as he drove to the office, parked, and made his way into the building. The training was to be held on site, in one of the meeting rooms. Dean was thankful for the familiar location of the site – it helped keep the panic at bay, just slightly. The routine of driving the same route, seeing the same people, it all helped. Still, it was change, and Dean didn’t handle change well anymore. 

He met Charlie in the cafeteria, just as he was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Dean. How you doing today?” Charlie asked casually, her voice not giving away too much concern.

“Morning Charlie.” Dean grumbled, not answering the question as he sipped at the coffee and gave a contented sigh. “Starting soon?”

“Yep. Got fifteen more minutes til it has to be happy, helpful Charlie – at least unless the client is on mute.”

Dean glanced at her out of the side of his eye, and as he saw the grin, he couldn’t help the soft laugh. Charlie had that effect, being able to make him smile and laugh most of the time.

“You gotta wait til they’re on hold man, you get yourself in trouble otherwise.” He told her, remembering the incident last week in which the client had demanded the manager and complained.

“Dude, not my fault that I didn’t hit mute properly before I told you what a winging Karen that client was. Maybe if she wasn’t a whinging Karen, I wouldn’t have said anything!” Charlie shot back defensively, though she was grinning the whole time, and Dean couldn’t help laughing with her.

For all the troubles he was having, there were still good times, still moments working here that he found himself dissolving in fits of laughter and being generally immature and silly. Moments like now, hanging around with Charlie, laughing at stupid things, were what kept him coming back even if sometimes, the job was difficult.

“Oh, listen, I have something for you.” Charlie dug around in her bag, finally retrieving a small paper bag that she handed over to Dean. “You don’t have to use it, if you want, just… I found writing down my thoughts helps. Maybe it’ll help you.”

Dean frowned, glancing at the small paper bag he held. He opened in carefully and looked inside, to see a small notebook and a set of coloured pens. Weird, certainly. He glanced at Charlie with a slightly confused expression, and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t make it weird. Just, try it. Sometimes it’s helpful to get it out, and sometimes seeing what you’re actually thinking can be.. enlightening, or whatever.”

“Uh… Yeah, okay. Thanks Charles.” Dean glanced at his watch, surprised that it was almost eight. “Hey you better go log on. I gotta get to this training. Catch up later?”

“You got it. Peace out, bitch.” 

Charlie left, shooting him the peace sign on her way out of the kitchen, which made him roll his eyes. He shoved the gift into his satchel, telling himself he’d think about it later, then grabbed his coffee and made his way down the hall to the meeting rooms.

Each of the doors had a name slide, and each room had it’s own name – something Dean had found amusing when he’d first found out about it. They had named each room after things from books and movies. The door of the room he’d been told to go to – Winterfell, of all things – was ajar, and Dean took a moment just outside the door to breathe and collect himself.

_Just be normal. Not a big deal, it’s just a new room. You’re not going to freak out. You’re going to make it through one day, and then think about tomorrow._

As ready as he could be, Dean entered the room with trepidation. It was empty however, thank god. He picked a desk toward the front of the room – he preferred being at the front, so he could see anything the professor would display without struggling. These training sessions were usually heavy with PowerPoint presentations and demonstrations.

He set his things up – laptop first, plugged in and set up on the desk, his coffee off to the side so he wouldn’t knock it – and as an afterthought, he pulled out the notebook and pens. Might as well give it a try if this was too boring, he figured.

Ready for the day, he finally glanced up to check the time – only to see a man standing at the desk that was at the front and off to the side, glaring at the screen of a laptop as though it had personally offended him by its mere presence.

The man was – well, he was something to look at, certainly. He was wearing dark, well fitting jeans, which was a good start. Over it he was wearing a simple white button up, the sleeves rolled back in a casual way that Dean wasn’t used to seeing professors adopt. His hair was mussed in a way that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and not bothered to brush it, yet somehow he made it work.

The professor suddenly looked up and caught him watching, and Dean could swear there was something unearthly about those eyes. They were a vibrant blue, a hue that shouldn’t be legal, yes – but it was the way the man’s eyes seemed to stare straight into him, like someone finally _saw_ him. Those eyes made him want to spill every secret and trust this stranger with his thoughts, his fears, his very life. 

He dropped his eyes, unable to cope with the heavy gaze any longer.

“Good morning. Thank you for being here on time. I’m Castiel, I’ll be presenting this learning for the next two weeks.” The man spoke, apparently unaffected.

_Jesus Christ on a motorbike, that voice is sin itself._

“Uh. Hi. Dean. Dean Winchester.” He mumbled in response, glancing back up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean.” The man smiled, then returned to glaring at his laptop screen. “We’ll just wait for the rest to arrive, then we’ll get started.”

Dean nodded slightly, understanding the end of conversation, and dropped his eyes back down to his desk. He pulled the notebook toward him and opened it, grabbing one of the new pens from the packet. Might as well fill in some time.

  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

  
“Alright, I think that will do for today.” The professor’s voice came unexpectedly in the quiet of the room, and Dean glanced up from the information he was reading on the laptop screen. “I have a few things I want to mention before I let you all go, and I would appreciate your full attention.”

There was quiet noises around him as the class murmured their assent, and he could hear laptops closing and bags being unzipped. Dean closed his own laptop, but didn’t immediately pack it away. He wouldn’t until the professor told them it was time to go – packing up would give him somewhat of a buffer, to allow the room to empty first so that he didn’t have to be caught in a crowd of twenty people leaving the room at the same time.

“Okay, thank you.” Castiel spoke again once the room was quiet. “Now, I have a few expectations in my training groups. One is that you be on time, every day, or let me know otherwise. My phone number is written at the front – please save it now, and send me a message should you be late.”

Dean had already seen the man write his number on the whiteboard earlier, and had saved it in his phone. While the class was doing the same, he glanced down to the scribbles he’d been thoughtlessly jotting down all day in his notebook. He frowned slightly, noticing that the page was full, and he read the words he had written for the first time. 

_Useless. Stupid. Alone. Never good enough._

Well, he supposed Charlie was right, then. His subconscious thoughts were making themselves known, even if he wasn’t aware of them. Throughout the day, he’d just been jotting things down without looking at them. It was somewhat of a shock to see the page filled with his deepest thoughts, the things he tried to avoid, and it made his eyes sting at the edges.

_Not now. Not here. Come on, just make it a few more minutes._

“…My last expectation is that while you are here you will participate, and engage. I will not have someone here just to ‘cruise through’, as they say, and waste time. So if you are here for that, do not come back tomorrow. In addition, I expect a certain level of maturity and kindness. Anything less than this will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?”

The people around him mumbled their agreement, and Castiel nodded slightly as he glanced around the room, meeting people’s eyes. Dean stared down at the desk in front of him, trying to control his breathing, trying to ignore the sting. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard – enough to cause pain to distract him, to bring back control.

“Thank you. You may go, and I expect to find you here tomorrow on time, and ready to learn.” Castiel dismissed them, and returned to his desk at the front.

The class dispersed noisily, and Dean shut his eyes for a moment, shutting out the chaos. He couldn’t tell how long he sat there, eyes shut, trying to shut off his thoughts, trying to collect himself enough to walk out of here with some dignity. He got lost in his thoughts, sitting there longer than necessary, unaware of the world around him – until he felt a hand drop onto his shoulder. He jumped as his eyes flew open, and he simultaneously slammed the notebook shut.

“Dean?” The hand on his shoulder was removed instantly.

Dean turned to look into the concerned eyes of his professor, and it was just like before. Those eyes seemed to see straight into his mind, read his thoughts and fears, and make him want to just.. tell him everything. Dean looked away, again. This time, his eyes landed on Castiel’s hands.

The professor was sitting on the little stool that he favoured – it had wheels, and a seat, but no back. Kind of like a bar stool with wheels. He was leaned forward slightly, obviously having reached over to touch Dean. 

He straightened now, and he was pulling a bracelet off his wrist. It was weird, kind of like a rope with large wooden beads tied onto it, spaced slightly apart. Dean wondered briefly if the guy was religious – they were like huge prayer beads, and the way Castiel was running them through his fingers was like he was counting them, or praying.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to see if you are okay.”

“I’m fine.” Dean replied automatically, keeping his eyes focused on the beads. He found himself counting, and it was calming in an odd way. “Sorry, just… kind of zoned out, there.”

“Hm.”

Dean glanced up with a slight frown at the noise. Castiel looked thoughtful, and he too was watching the beads as he ran them through his fingers. Dean stayed quiet, waiting, as the professor seemed to be collecting his thoughts as he thumbed each individual bead, moving on to the next.

“Dean, if you ever need to talk, or just need a break… Let me know, okay?” Castiel glanced up and caught his eyes for a moment. “I want you to know that I will be completely understanding if you wish to ask for anything.”

_Oh, great. Even he can see how broken you are._

“Um. Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Dean mumbled.

Castiel sat for a few more moments, and Dean could feel his eyes on him. But the professor said nothing more. After a beat the man moved away quietly, and Dean glanced up to see him packing up his things at the front desk. He frowned slightly. Usually these conversations ended in him being offered the employee assistance program or being pushed to talk. This one hadn’t, and it left him confused.

He shook it off and started to pack his belongings into his satchel, and cleaned away the few bits of paper he had left. He grabbed his cup, and with a slight nod to Castiel, left the room. 

He felt bad for not actually saying goodbye, but he couldn’t do it. Thoughts swirled through his head as he automatically made his way to the kitchen, rinsed his cup, and made his way out of the building. He wasn’t completely stupid - he knew he was attracted to Castiel, on a major level. But he couldn’t be, he had to stop it, control it. Because it was dangerous. He was dangerous. Castiel was too easy to talk to, too easy to let in - and if Dean let him in, he would be hurt. Because Dean was too dangerous, too broken, too stupid, to be allowed to be close to anyone. 

It wasn’t until he’d gotten to the Impala that he realised the sting in his eyes was long gone, and had been before he’d even left the room.


	3. Don’t lie to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Castiel leaves Dean feeling off kilter, and he finds something missing after a night of drinks with Charlie and Sam.

Tuesday passed without incident. No episodes, or near episodes. The class was slightly smaller, too. At least five people had pulled out of the training, which Dean found odd. He supposed they were the ones who expected a cruise, and having Castiel deny that made them decide not to continue.

The professor started the day by getting them to set intentions – what they intended to do today, in terms of attitude and commitment – then reiterated his rules and continued the training with no further mention of it. It was odd, Dean thought, but it was calming as well. Castiel had asked for simple intentions, things just for them that they didn’t need to share with the class. Dean had decided his was to be present and engaged for the day, and being able to meet his goal made him feel like he had achieved something for the day.

Castiel had approached him while the class shuffled out, as Dean was letting them disperse once again while he packed up.

“You did well today, Dean. Great work.”

Dean huffed out a disbelieving laugh, which made Castiel frown with confusion.

“Sure. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.” 

Dean left the room quickly, not wanting to explain why he couldn’t believe the man.

At home, he made dinner again for himself and Sam. He decided to grill some sausages, and served it up with mashed potato, gravy, and even fresh vegetables. Sam had given him an odd look, but didn’t comment much aside from carefully mentioning that it was nice to see him in a good mood. Dean just grimaced, and told him to shut up and eat his dinner.

Wednesday was much the same, including when Castiel commented on his good work for the day. Again, Dean brushed it off and made a hasty retreat.

Thursday was different.

The morning started off fine – Castiel explained that there would be a short quiz, to gather how they were learning so far and check if there were areas he needed to focus on. Dean had completed it without much trouble – then he’d glanced around, noticing that others were still working on it and seemed confused.

He frowned slightly, going back over the questions. He had to have missed something, not understood properly, or something. There’s no way he could be one of the first finished and have done it right. So he pored over the few questions on the quiz, trying to find what he’d left out. As the time wore on, his worry increased. He couldn’t find it. He was going to turn this in to find he was completely wrong, and the professor would see how stupid he was, and probably kick him out.

“Dean.” A soft voice interrupted his thoughts, and he pulled his gaze away from the computer to meet Castiel’s questioning eyes. “Do you need a break?”

“What? No, no, I’m fine.” Dean answered.

Castiel’s lips turned down slightly in a worried frown. It was then that Dean realised there was wetness on his cheeks. Damn it, he’d been crying again, and hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest, either, or his breathing, which had become erratic. He’d started to freak out again while he was checking his own work, expecting to find a mistake, and hadn’t even noticed.

_Damn it, calm down. You’re making yourself look like an idiot._

“I’m fine.” He repeated as he swiped a hand over his cheeks, refusing to acknowledge the tears.

“If you need a break-“ Castiel started again quietly, but stopped when Dean shook his head. “Okay. But please ask if you need something.”

Dean nodded slightly, not trusting his voice. Castiel stared at him for a few moments longer, then eventually backed off. The professor returned to his desk, then looked back at Dean as though he was waiting for something. Dean frowned, confused, and dropped his eyes – to see the beads that Castiel always wore, sitting on the front of his desk, right where Castiel had been. 

He picked them up and his frown grew slightly, his confusion only increasing as he let the beads rest in the palm of his hand. He felt silly, but he had to admit he was curious – he ran a bead through his fingers, thumbing over the wooden sphere as he had seen Castiel do so many times. It was… kind of calming, in a weird way. It didn’t really make sense that feeling a wooden bead would calm him, but he did it again anyway, then again, counting as he went.

He glanced back up to Castiel to show the man that he’d left them there - Castiel would probably notice them missing soon - only to see the man still watching him. Slowly, Castiel glanced at the beads, then back at Dean, and he nodded slightly. He was letting Dean keep them, for the moment, it seemed. Dean gave him a half smile, then Castiel shifted his gaze elsewhere, focusing on the other students.

He focused on the beads he held, running them through his fingers, feeling the solid wood between his index finger and thumb as he counted along the endless circle. He counted out ten beads, then started again at one, and repeated the process over and over, losing any sense of time. It was calming, and it seemed to help keep him there, in the moment. Surprisingly, the pressure in his chest lightened, and he didn’t have to fight so hard to keep the tears at bay.

He found as the day progressed he was able to focus better, and calm down faster. Every time he started to worry he would count the beads again, running his thumb over the smooth surface of the beads.

When the day ended, Castiel approached again. In a way, Dean was waiting for him, starting to get used to the routine. Castiel was introducing things he could count on each day, from setting his intention in the morning, to their short talks in the afternoons.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean spoke first this time, half smiling as he held out the beads for the professor to take. “Thanks for letting me borrow these.”

“Anytime, Dean. Thank you for letting me help.” Castiel answered sincerely as he took the beads and wrapped them around his wrist. He paused, then tipped his head to the side with a slightly confused expression. “…Cas?”

“Oh. Uh, hope you don’t mind.” Dean flushed, embarrassed that he had presumed to use a nickname. “Just slipped, I guess, but I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Not at all.” The man smiled at him gently, and it lit up his face in a way that had Dean mesmerised. “I don’t mind. I just wasn’t expecting it. I have been called that name by friends, also, so please continue.”

“Oh. Cool.” Dean answered quietly, not sure what else to say.

They lapsed into silence as Dean packed his laptop away, lost in thought. Eventually, Castiel broke the silence.

“You did great work today, Dean.” Castiel started, and Dean huffed as usual, but this time Castiel held up a hand to stop him. “No, you did. I know you were worried about the quiz. What I don’t know is why – you got full marks; every question was answered correctly and beautifully written.”

“I – what? But…” Dean frowned, trying to understand. How could he have done well when the others were struggling? It didn’t make sense.

“You are highly intelligent, Dean. You have listened, researched, and understood everything that I have delivered so far, on a level exceeding your peers. I would ask something of you, and that is to stop being so hard on yourself. Your fears are unfounded.”

Well, shit. Castiel had seen right through him and asked of him the one thing he couldn’t find it in himself to do. Even now Dean doubted what the man had said and dropped his eyes as he tried to find a response. Before he could, though, Castiel was talking again.

“I would ask another thing of you, Dean. I understand, when I ask if you are okay, if you don’t want to go into your reasons. But I ask this of you; I won’t push you for an explanation, but **do not lie to me**. It is okay to say no.”

Dean looked up sharply, staring into Castiel’s eyes. The man had spoken in a way that left no room for argument, almost as though this wasn’t a question, but a demand. Dean stayed silent for a moment, considering – he knew if he agreed, it wasn’t just words. It was a promise, an offer of trust. And even though it had only been a few days, something had just clicked between them, as though he’d known Castiel forever. And something in him knew without a doubt that he could trust Castiel.

“Yes, sir.” He answered quietly, for once not dropping his eyes away.

Castiel held his gaze for a few moments, seeming to be waiting or searching for something. But he said nothing more on the subject – the man simply nodded and stepped back, leaving Dean some room to grab his things. Dean let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and stood with his satchel in hand.

Dean took a moment to just look at Castiel, who was watching him carefully. If he didn’t know better, he would think the professor cared about the answer. But that wouldn’t be the case. They’d known each other only a few days, and only as a work acquaintance. Yet, he wondered. He thought he caught a brief flash of disappointment in those eyes, just as Castiel turned away. 

“I will see you tomorrow.” Castiel told him and for once, the professor left the room first.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean sighed as he let himself sink back into the seat, resting his head back as he simply sat in his baby. He felt strange, not quite in a bad way, but it was confusing nonetheless. He didn’t know why the different end today made him feel so off kilter, but it did. The way Castiel had spoken to him, almost demanding that he told the truth, had made him feel safe in a strange way. And yet, the man had left soon after, leaving Dean with a feeling of failure. 

And that was frustrating in itself. He was used to the feeling, of course, considering he pretty much lived it every day. In this situation though, he wasn’t sure why he was feeling it. He owed nothing to the professor, despite his questioning, caring nature. So why was he feeling so down, so worried, about the idea that he had disappointed the man?

_**Dean 17:21 ‘Come over for drinks?’** _

Dean waited, tapping on the steering wheel along to Blue oyster cult as he waited for Charlie’s reply impatiently. Finally the alert for a new message went off, and he unlocked the phone again to read it.

_**Charles 17:24 ‘On a Thursday night?’** _

_**Charles 17:25 ‘’I’m down.’** _

Dean laughed quietly to himself – he had been worried at first, but of course he shouldn’t have been. Charlie was always up for a drink with him, mostly because they hardly spent any time together. 

He turned the key in the ignition, loving the sound the engine made as she roared to life. Something about his car, his baby, always made him feel safe and secure. Maybe it was because Dad left it to him. 

His father, despite his extremely strict views and his problems, had always been someone that Dean felt safe with. Yes, John had his issues – big issues since mom died. He probably wasn’t the father he should have been, but Dean reasoned that depression must have gotten to him pretty bad. And yeah, John had some pretty extreme views – but when his Dad WAS home, Dean knew that he could go and sit with him and have a grown up talk, and John would tell him to be a strong man, and that he believed in him, so he would try. So it really wasn’t so bad, right?

Dean got lost in his thoughts somewhat as he wandered the aisles of the local supermarket, picking up things he needed. He missed his parents, sometimes. Most of the time he didn’t think about them, or talk about them, because it would just start hurting. But he did miss them. Ever since John had died in a car accident, several years ago, there was nobody left to think of as the parent. He had nobody to ask for help now, and it sucked.

But, he supposed, at least he still had Sammy, and a few friends.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Get the tomatoes! No, over here – dude, seriously?! You threw it in the water!” Charlie yelled, frustrated but laughing.

Dean kept laughing, almost to the point of tears as he mashed the PlayStation controller, trying to make the weird little character on the screen go back to where the tomatoes were. He was playing Overcooked with Charlie and Sammy, feeling relaxed and contented from the burgers he had cooked for their dinner and the five beers he’d downed already.

“Dude come on. You can cook like a chef in real life but you can’t even chop me the lettuce so I can get this dish finished?!” Sam commented with a grin.

“Oh come on, I’m trying here!” Dean laughed.

The buzzer to warn that they were running out of time started to sound, and things went crazy. For the next few minutes they yelled and laughed as they tried to dash around the on screen game to get all of the dishes completed before the time hit zero. They finally ran out of time and finished with two stars, then promptly collapsed into fits of laughter.

The three all took a few minutes to let the laughter subside. Finally they’d all calmed down enough to talk normally, and Sam spoke first as he glanced at Dean.

“Oh man, this has been great. It’s so good to chill out and see you laughing.” Sam smiled, and Dean just nodded.

He didn’t really open up about how he was feeling – like, ever. But Sam wasn’t stupid, and Dean wouldn’t insult his intelligence by pretending he hadn’t been off for some time. But, at the same time, he wasn’t going to start a big deep and meaningful either. Sam seemed to get it though, and just nodded as he stood from the couch and collected his empty bottles, along with Dean and Charlie’s.

“Dude you don’t gotta do that, I can do it.” Dean protested briefly.

“No, I don’t mind. I’ve really enjoyed tonight, guys. I do have to get up at five, though, and it’s currently…” Sam paused as he checked his watch. “12:25. So I’m gonna head off to bed, and you guys probably should soon too.”

“Aw, but we were having so much fun!” Charlie complained.

“If you didn’t go do that exercise thing every morning you could sleep in more.” Dean teased.

“Yeah, and if you did that ‘exercise thing’ you wouldn’t need as much sleep cause you’d have more energy.” Sam shot back. “Night guys.”

Dean just shook his head with a grin as Sam left the room. He heard the bedroom door shut down the hall, and everything was quiet for a moment. He had to admit that it was nice to be in a good mood and trade banter with Sam, even if it was short. It had been way too long since they’d laughed and bantered like that. The thought made him frown, and brought to mind a common worry.

_I’m a terrible brother._

“Hey, whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” Charlie told him firmly with a punch to the arm, dragging him back into the present. “No being down. Have another drink. In fact, you can get me one too, since you’re going to the fridge.”

Dean rolled his eyes at her, yet he got up anyway and went to the grab another two beers. When he got back to the couch he presented it to Charlie with an over the top bow and flourish.

“Your drink, my Queen.”

“Why thank you, hand maiden.” Charlie laughed as she took the beer from him. “You know, you haven’t come to Moondoor for awhile now. You should come.”

“Yeah. Maybe soon.” Dean agreed. “We should go to bed soon too, though. You might be able to call in sick, but I can’t.”

“Oh, right, you’ve got that training haven’t you? What’s it like?” Charlie asked, ignoring his comment about bed as she sunk back into the cushions.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Dean shrugged. “I seem to be managing it alright. And the Professor teaching it is… Nice.”

“Uh oh.” Charlie sat up straight and fixed him with a look. “I heard a pause there. What’s going on? Do I have to threaten someone? Cause I will.”

“No, dude, calm down.” Dean laughed softly, then stared at his beer bottle as he held it, tracing the rim with a finger. “He’s fine. He’s nice. Just… A bit different, I guess.”

Charlie stared at him silently, obviously waiting for him to continue. Dean sighed softly, and Charlie picked up on it, immediately shaking her head.

“Oh no. No you don’t, Dean Winchester. Don’t you get that look on your face.” Charlie told him, her stare a mixture of firm and concerned. “You cannot like this guy, I don’t care how nice he looks. You don’t need more stress right now.”

“No, Charlie, it’s not – look, I mean, he does look good, but it’s not that.” Dean took a breath, then huffed it out. “It’s just… It’s like this guy actually cares.”

He paused, but Charlie gestured with her hand for him to continue.

“He comes over in the afternoons to tell me that I’ve done good.” He looked away, trying not to show how much those words were meaning to him, even if he didn’t believe them. “He wears these beads, and when I was having a bad day he let me borrow them and I started counting them, like I see him do. And it helped. And, we just have a bit of a talk in the afternoons, when everyone is gone. It’s just… nice, I guess.”

“But?” Charlie pressed. 

“But… Well, today he left first. It sounds stupid but…” Dean sighed and took a long drink, then continued. “We always chat, and I leave first. But today he… He knew I was lying when I said I was okay. And he asked me not to. Then I didn’t say anything, and he left first. I just, I feel like I screwed up, and I don’t know how to face him tomorrow. Today. Later. You know what I mean.”

“Oh, Dean.” Charlie frowned then, out of nowhere, she jumped forward and hugged him.

Dean was caught off guard for a second. Once it passed, though, he sighed and hugged her back, letting his forehead drop down to her shoulder and rest there. She lightly rubbed a hand over his back, letting him hold on for a moment, then pulled back. He let her go and sat back, even though he felt like he could have kept holding on forever. She stared at him for a few moments, as though she was deciding what to say. 

“Look, you don’t owe this guy anything, okay? It’s nice that he cares, and it sounds like he does. But you don’t owe him anything.” She paused for a moment and stared at him until he nodded slightly. “Have you been using the journal I gave you?”

“What?” Dean blinked, her sudden change of subject catching him off guard. “Oh. Yeah, every day. I have it here.”

Dean reached over and grabbed his satchel from the coffee table. He rifled through the contents for the book – then frowned slightly, and went through it more carefully. After a minute he started pulling everything out, placing things on the table. His laptop, his headphones, iPod and notebook for the course were in there, along with the hand outs that Castiel had given over the week. But the little notebook was nowhere. He rifled through the contents several times, hoping – but it wasn’t there.

He looked up at Charlie, fear running through him as he met her eyes.

“Shit.” 


	4. You are not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean looks for his notebook, but can’t find it. Charlie has a conversation with Castiel, and Dean finally has a breakdown in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to convey in this how terrifying a panic attack is, and how massive an impact the words “You are not alone” are.
> 
> Trigger warning for panic attack and (Obscurely) referenced self harm

The next morning, Dean felt like he was on edge the whole morning. Sam asked him what was wrong as he cooked up a big breakfast at six am. While Dean might have been a good cook, he was rarely up a minute earlier than he absolutely had to be. And yet, on this Friday morning, he had woken early to cook a meal for himself and Sam, of bacon, eggs, toast, tomatoes and mushrooms.

He ignored the question and sat down to eat with Sam, starting a conversation about something random to do with work. Sam frowned, but didn’t comment any further.

He left for work early, earning him a grumpy look from Charlie, since he’d had to wake her up early to give her a ride into work. She didn’t say much though, which he appreciated. She knew why he wanted to go in early, and why he was on edge, so she hadn’t complained when he’d blasted AC/DC the whole way to work.

They had both gone to the room and searched for his notebook – but it was nowhere to be found. As the time passed and the book still couldn’t be found, Dean grew more anxious. Dean was the last person to leave the day before – Could the cleaners have found it and thrown it out? That would be the easiest outcome.   
  
But what if someone had come back to the room and found it? What if Castiel had found it – and worse, read it? That notebook had his errant thoughts in it, everything that ran through his head during the day. Anyone who found it would think he was insane. And if Castiel had found it, then that would be the end of his wanting anything to do with Dean, for certain.  
Charlie eventually called off the search, obviously noticing his erratic breathing and the tears streaming from his eyes. She pushed him down into his seat, told him to stay, and left. Five minutes later she was back with a coffee. She sat beside him silently and let him lean on her, his head rested on her shoulder.  
  
He appreciated that she would never say anything when he had an episode. She would just sit there, silently supporting him, rubbing his back until he passed out. This time was no different.  
  
He eventually woke to Charlie talking quietly. At first he couldn’t quite make out the words, as it is when you first wake up – he could just hear her speaking quietly, the tones of her voice a somewhat comforting mumble. After a few moments, though, her voice became harsh, and he could make out the words despite that she was whispering.  
  
“- I’m not telling you anything. It’s Dean’s business, not mine.” She didn’t sound angry, but certainly her whispers held a certain level of steel. “But I’m warning you now. If you’re playing games with him just stop. Don’t pretend to care. Dean takes things pretty deep and if you fuck him over, he’s gonna blame himself and end up in a real bad place.”  
  
“I understand. I will not ask you to break Dean’s confidence – I agree that his privacy is of the utmost importance.” That was Castiel’s voice, also pitched low. “It is good that he has somebody that cares so much for him. I assure you that I do not intend to hurt him in any way.”  
  
“You know that you talk weird, right?” Dean felt Charlie laugh softly. He kept his eyes closed, listening to the conversation and feeling guilty for doing so at the same time. “I get you don’t want to hurt him. But you should know, if you do, I’ll kick your ass.”  
  
There was a slight pause in conversation then. Dean could imagine Castiel tilting his head slightly, raising that eyebrow like he’d seen the man do in the past week often enough.  
  
“Strangely, I don’t doubt that you would.” Castiel commented.  
  
“Yeah, well, I’ll also freeze all of your bank accounts and have you blacklisted from every place in the area. Maybe play with your criminal record a bit.”  
  
There was silence again. Dean decided it was time to bring this conversation to an end – as much as he loved Charlie for wanting to protect him and having the balls to bail the man up in the first place. He grunted and moved slightly, catching Charlie’s attention.  
  
“Oh hey, sleeping beauty.” Charlie commented with a smile.  
  
“Hey, Charles.” He answered quietly, opening his eyes. The room was… oddly dim. Only some of the lights had been turned on. “How long was I out?”  
  
“Oh, just an hour. I told Castiel here how you came in early to study, but fell asleep.”  
  
 _She covered for me. God I owe her._  
  
“Uh.. right, yeah.” Dean sat up, wiping his hands across his face. “Sorry ‘bout that.”  
  
“Nah, all good. You were tired after our late night drinking and playing games.”  
  
Dean frowned at Charlie, but she just shrugged as if to say ‘What was I supposed to tell him?’. He just shook his head, but smiled at her briefly and nodded his head toward the door. She seemed to understand what he was saying and after a moment, she stood.  
  
“Well, since you’re awake, I’ll take off. I gotta go log in and get ready to cause trouble.” She grinned.  
  
“Try not to get fired, will you?” Dean laughed.  
  
She shrugged in a way that did not, in any way, convince him that she would listen. Dean rolled his eyes again as he watched her leave – and then she was gone and it was just him and Castiel left in the room. He glanced over at the man who was watching him carefully. What was he going to say? Apologise for being tired? As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry, as Castiel spoke first.  
  
“Are you okay, Dean?”  
  
“I’m fi-“ Dean stopped.  
  
He remembered the previous afternoon. Castiel asked – no, told him – not to lie. He’d told Dean he wouldn’t ask for an explanation, but never to lie to him. He didn’t think Castiel had asked the question now to test him, especially after the conversation he’d eavesdropped on. No, the man was asking because for whatever reason, he did care.   
  
Castiel seemed to be patiently waiting for him to figure himself out. The man was still watching him, but not in a way that made him feel pressured, oddly enough. Dean knew somehow that he would wait until he was ready to provide an answer. So he considered carefully. Castiel seemed to be trustworthy – not by anything he’d said or done, but just the way Dean felt. Then again, Dean wasn’t always a good judge of character. Should he tell him in a way that allowed them to have a conversation about it? Or just answer honestly? He couldn’t decide.  
  
Eventually, he heard a soft sound – footsteps and chatter, coming up the hallway. His choice was taken away. The first group of people were approaching, coming toward the room, and they would have no time to talk. Finally he made his choice, and met Castiel’s eyes, only to answer with a single word.  
  
“No.”  
  
Castiel smiled slightly then, an odd reaction, and nodded. Dean understood it for what it was – appreciation that he had told the truth, despite that they would not be able to discuss it. The first group entered the room, calling out ‘Good morning’s to Castiel. Castiel greeted them each in turn and, as the room filled, began the day.  
  
Dean settled in and then, as the morning pressed on, his thoughts returned to his missing notebook.  
  
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Dean tried to keep his breathing even as he counted his steps out carefully, slowly, in his brain. He wet his lips nervously – then remembered to breathe, drawing the air in over a count of three, trying to remain calm. He was closer now, almost to the front of the room where Castiel sat on his strange, wheelie stool. The professor twisted the beads in his hand, staring intently at his screen – and somehow just keeping his eyes on the man was keeping Dean calm enough to keep walking toward him.  
  
 _He’s going to think you’re an idiot. A weak, lazy idiot._ Ten more steps, maybe? _He’s going to see you break down and know you’re just a stupid, overgrown child._ Five more steps. _You can’t even handle a normal day._ Two more steps – but they weren’t necessary, as Castiel took that moment to look up, straight at Dean.   
  
Dean knew the man could see right through him – the way his eyes widened, and his lips parted in shock, told Dean all he had to know. He knew. He could see how Dean was broken, and probably thought he was an idiot. Still, he had to try and pretend things were normal, and so he opened his mouth, praying his voice wouldn’t waver.

“Could I- uhm, have a quick… Just a break?” His voice cracked on the last word, and he felt the first tear slip free.   
  
Castiel wasted no time with words. He slipped off the stool, gesturing for Dean to go ahead of him, and herded him out of the room in seconds. Out in the empty hallway, Dean turned for the stairs – his tears were flowing now, and he couldn’t stop them – but he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. Although the fingers on his skin were loose, it felt like a vice around his wrist, stopping him from running. He didn’t turn.  
  
“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. Dean made no movement, trying and failing to keep his breathing even. “Dean, look at me. Please.”  
  
Dean closed his eyes, squeezed them tight. He didn’t want Castiel to see this part of him, and yet he couldn’t find the strength to pull away from the man. Something stopped him, as much as he refused to turn around, he also couldn’t pull away – whether it was a sense of not wanting to upset Castiel, or a sense of wanting someone to finally see, he didn’t know. He didn’t – couldn’t – care which.  
  
His world was narrowing quickly. He could hear a rushing in his ears, and he knew from experience it wouldn’t be long before he blacked out. His breath was coming fast, too fast, in short gasps, and he was losing control. If Castiel knew what was good for him he would run, leave Dean as the mess he was, and run far away. Yet the next thing he felt was warm hands, cupping each side of his face and forcing him to turn around.   
  
He heard himself sob, pathetic and needy, as Castiel gently turned him, then guided him back with gentle hands to lean against the wall. Gentle, confident hands stroked over his arms, and slipped down to take his hands carefully. He wasn’t sure what the man was doing, but he didn’t pay much attention as his hands were pulled forwards, and up – until he felt soft fabric under his hands and a soft, slow rise and fall.   
  
“That’s it, Dean, just listen to my voice.” Castiel was saying as Dean tuned back in to the world. “Just breathe like I am. Feel my chest? Copy my breathing, okay?”  
  
Dean moved his fingers slightly, feeling the soft material underneath them, the firm shape of a human body underneath that. More than that, he could feel the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest as he took slow, deep breaths. The man seemed to be helping him, trying to calm him down, even if Dean still couldn’t fathom why he would bother. The thought must have shown in his demeanour somehow though, because Castiel was speaking again, breaking through his thoughts.  
  
“None of that, now. Don’t think about it – just do what I’m telling you, Dean. Listen to me, only me. Can you do that for me?”  
Dean slowly, carefully nodded, though he didn’t dare to open his eyes just yet. Castiel’s voice was careful and soothing and slowly, he began to try to copy the man’s breathing again, just following what he could feel under his hands.  
  
“Good boy.” Castiel told him in a low voice, rubbing his fingers gently over the backs of Dean’s hands.  
  
Dean felt a warmth blossom in his chest at those words. Good boy… He was doing good, he was being good. He wished he could hear it again. The simple words washed over him, comforting, safe. He felt his breathing slow more, and he relaxed back against the wall, letting Castiel take over.   
  
Castiel’s thumbs stilled on the back of Dean’s hands for a moment, seemingly in response to his actions. He tensed for a moment, wondering if he had done something wrong – then relaxed as the rubbing over the back of his hands resumed, and Castiel spoke again.  
  
“That’s it, Dean, that’s very good. You’re doing so well.” Castiel said quietly. “Good boy.”  
  
There it was again. He was good, he was doing the right thing. Dean let out a soft sigh, a strange calm settling over him. It was strange because it was the kind of calm he never felt, he could never find. And yet it settled over him gently like a warm blanket, and he let himself drift into it as everything went black.  
  
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 _Someday I’ll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds are far behind me  
Where trouble melts like lemon drops, high above the chimney tops is where you’ll find me_  
  
Dean woke slowly to the tune of Israel Kamakawiwoʻole singing ‘Over the rainbow’ in soft, quiet tunes. The song was one he knew from long ago, though had not heard in some time. It was comforting and brought a faint smile to his lips, which widened as he heard Castiel softly humming along to the song. Of course his professor would listen to this music regularly – he was, after all, a bit of a dork.  
  
It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over him and he gasped as he shot up to a sitting position. He heard a sudden clatter of something falling to the floor, but ignored it, caught in the sudden panic. His professor – Castiel – what had happened? Dean’s memories were fuzzy but he had a feeling that Castiel had been there when he freaked out and broke down. His mind spun, wondering what the man would think of him now. Sure, he’d known this morning that Dean was not okay, but having a complete breakdown was way out of line.  
  
“Dean? Dean!” Castiel’s voice cut through his thoughts and brought the present back into focus.  
The man was crouched in front of him, close enough that he could easily read the worry and concern in those eyes. Castiel’s hands were gripped tight on his shoulders, as though he’d had to shake Dean to bring him back into the moment. Dean was still shaking, and he could hear the shaking in his breathing, the way the sobs made themselves vocal as they ripped out of him.  
  
“…Cas.” Dean breathed, then he crumpled in on himself as the memories surfaced. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m not… I’ll just- I’ll just go, I’m sorry, I-“  
  
“Dean, stop!” Castiel’s voice cracked like a whip and Dean’s eyes shot to his face, stunned into silence.  
  
Castiel’s hands dropped from Dean’s shoulders once it was clear he was not going to move, and the professor pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Dean dropped his eyes, knowing what was coming next. It was one thing to know someone had issues; it was entirely different to be faced with it, to have to deal with it as Castiel had. Guaranteed, Castiel would suggest that he needed help; he shouldn’t be in this line of work if he couldn’t handle it; and probably more. Dean had heard it several times already, and he was steeling himself for it, trying to dampen how much it would hurt.  
  
“Dean, this is not your fault.”  
  
Well that was definitely not what he expected. Dean just stared at his professor dumbly, not sure what to say. Castiel, for his part, simply sighed and rocked back on his heels until he was sitting on his ass on the floor and leaning forward. He was eye level with Dean now, although he still had his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. The professor seemed to be gathering his thoughts – and Dean let him. Finally, Castiel opened his eyes to meet Dean’s and dropped his hand away from his face.  
  
“How are you feeling now?” Castiel asked gently.  
  
“I’m fine.” Dean answered automatically, his eyes dropping.  
  
“Dean.” The command in Castiel’s voice forced Dean to look up and meet his eyes. There was something there, but it wasn’t pity. “I will not ask you again; **Do not lie to me.** ”  
  
“Yes sir.” Dean mumbled, dropping his eyes again – this time with shame, remembering the last time he had said that, and yet still broken his promise.  
  
Dean thought he heard a thoughtful humm from Castiel – but he couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t question it. Aside from that, there were no further words. Glancing up, he realised Castiel was still waiting patiently for him to answer the question. He frowned slightly, trying to sort out the thoughts in his head and his current feelings so that he could voice them, without sounding completely insane.  
  
“I guess… Calmer. Better.” He glanced at Castiel to see one eyebrow raised in disbelief. He cleared his throat and answered again, more confident. “Better. I’m confused and embarrassed but, I do feel better than… Than before.”  
  
“Good. That’s very good, Dean.” Castiel answered, and Dean let out a soft sigh, glad he had answered correctly. “Tell me; do you know what happened, before? Can you talk about it?”  
  
Dean shrugged one shoulder and dropped his gaze, twisting his fingers together. He honestly wasn’t sure what happened – he never knew what it was, he just called it his ‘episodes’. He couldn’t control when it happened, and there wasn’t always a trigger. It just comes on suddenly, exhausts him, then it’s gone.  
  
The first time it happened, he’d taken his first difficult call – the client was screaming at him and calling him a useless piece of shit, because he was taking too long to do something simple. He remembered the client demanding to speak to his manager – and when he had passed the call over, he’d broken down. He remembered not being able to breathe, feeling like he was in terrible danger – then he’d passed out. He’d woken up not long after, with his supervisor at the time slapping his face and yelling at him, calling him stupid and useless.   
  
Not long after, he’d been transferred from Gordon’s team to Jody’s, and she was more understanding – but it hadn’t helped, he’d continued to have episodes. And while she didn’t fire him, he felt like she should have by now. These episodes were happening too often and were putting pressure on people unnecessarily – like now, when he’d had an episode during training, of all things.  
  
Dean pulled himself back to the present, noticing Castiel staring at him – there was no judgement in his eyes, though. He was watching Dean as though he was waiting, concerned but patient. Not pushing him. Dean appreciated that and cleared his throat, finding the words slowly.  
  
“I don’t really know what got to me. I just felt… Dumb, and like… I’m not as good as everyone else. And then it just overwhelmed me and I couldn’t stop it, then I couldn’t breathe and I was… I was scared-“ Dean caught his breath on a gasp, feeling his eyes burn again and his breathing start to speed up. He’d never actually admitted that he was scared before, let alone the terror he actually felt. “I meant to – to get outside and deal with it, I just-“  
  
“Breathe, Dean.” Castiel spoke, his voice low and calm again. “Just breathe. You’re here, with me. You’re safe.”  
  
Castiel’s thumb was gently rubbing circles into his skin again – this time it was on his wrist, right on his pulse point. Dean watched the man’s thumb rubbing his skin, slowly relaxing again, despite that Castiel was rubbing right over the four lines on his wrist, the thin burn lines. God, he was so broken, wasn’t he? But still, that didn’t stop him from enjoying the gentle, consistent pressure on his wrist. It seemed to help and slowly, his breathing evened out again.  
  
“Dean, can I ask... Do you know what a panic attack is?” Castiel spoke gently now, as though he was wary of scaring Dean away.  
  
“Um. Not really.” Dean shrugged a shoulder. He’d heard of the term, but he didn’t think that was what was going on. No, he was just weak. Stupid. Having random freak outs.  
  
“Hm. Well, I think that you may have possibly had a panic attack.” Castiel continued when Dean shot him a look of disbelief. “Feeling scared, or terrified. Unable to breathe. Not being able to think straight.”  
  
Dean frowned, twisting his fingers together again. He didn’t have a response to that. I mean sure, it sounded similar to what he was experiencing, but he should be better than that. Stronger. Other people seemed to manage just fine, yet here he was, broken and useless.  
  
“Dean, there is no shame in having a panic attack. There’s no shame in anxiety or depression, or any other struggle you may be having. A lot of people struggle with these things. It’s okay to struggle, to need help.”  
  
Dean snorted at this in disbelief. Part of him didn’t want to reveal that yeah, he was struggling – but it was a bit late for that, he supposed. The other part of him knew that yes, other people had depression and anxiety, and they coped amazingly well. He didn’t see anyone else having episodes around the office. And he was sure that if anyone he knew struggled with mental illness, they handled it a hell of a lot better than he did.  
  
“Dean.” Castiel’s firm voice brought him back into the moment, and he was surprised to find Castiel staring at him from only an inch or so away. He could feel the professor’s breath on his face as he gently, yet firmly told him; “ **You are not alone**.”  
  
Dean sucked in a breath and felt tears prick at his eyes again, wanting so much to believe Castiel. That simple statement – it broke him, again. The man couldn’t possibly know how much that simple statement meant to him. To feel like somebody understood, truly understood, had maybe even been through it - If he wasn’t alone. He felt the sobs grip his chest, felt his breath constrict. But this time he also felt strong arms pull him against a solid chest that was breathing slow and steady, just for him. And part of him felt like maybe, just maybe,he could believe Castiel.  
  
Dean shook as tears streamed down his face, completely out of control. He clung to Castiel, as though to a life line. He listened to the deep breaths the other man took, slow and measured, and breathed along with him. This wasn’t an episode. This was something different, like a weight sliding off. It terrified him just as much as it relieved him. And through it, he calmed to Castiel’s quiet, steady whispers against his cheek.  
  
“Good, Dean. You’re so good.”.


	5. Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel invites Dean out for breakfast and draws a clear line in their relationship.
> 
> He also makes a proposal that is pretty outside of Dean's knowledge and comfort zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, not alot of action in this one, mostly talking. But, it's there for a reason and is necessary. Also new tag added and more will be added as the story moves along.
> 
> Oh also, I'm Aussie, so my spelling is going to be Aussie English (mostly). Sorry not sorry. But if there's anything I get really wrong in terms of naming things (Trash can, creek, etc) feel free to let me know so I can fix it. :)

Dean woke slowly on Saturday morning.

Instead of jumping out of bed and going about the morning mechanically as he usually did, he took a moment to just lie there. He stretched first, raising his arms high above his head, then brought them down to cross behind him, resting his head back on his arms. He relaxed into the comforting memory foam, letting himself wake slowly to the new day. He loved the way the mattress seemed to wrap around him, trapping his body and making him feel secure.

The light of the sun was peeking through a crack in the block out curtains, letting a nice sort of light and warmth through the room. He glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings, and noticing them in a way he never really took time to do.

His room was clean – almost too clean. There were no clothes or mess around, but also no personal touches – he had a single photo frame on his nightstand, of himself as a child with his mother. There was nothing else to show that he, Dean Winchester, lived here. Thirty something years of life and nothing much to show for it that wasn’t hidden deep under layers of pain and self-loathing.

It was surprisingly disturbing, he realised. It had never really bothered him – he had moved here with Sam after the incident had happened. He barely remembered the move itself, only that it had happened. He’d brought some of his personal things, of course, but they were still packed away in a cardboard box that was hidden in the back of his wardrobe. He hadn’t thought about that box since they had moved, but now he wondered if he could bring himself to face it.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him away from the idea of the box and thoughts that had started to weigh him down. He glanced at the screen and smiled slightly as he read the

notification. Three new messages.

 **_Cas 08:48 ‘Hello, Dean.’_ **

**_Cas 08:51 ‘I understand it is early however I would like to check in with you to see how you are feeling.’_ **

**_Cas 08:55 ‘I wondered if you would like to join me for breakfast.’_ **

Dean frowned slightly, feeling uncertain. It was an odd request, and he had pictured Castiel as the type of person who wouldn’t want to see people outside of work. Regardless the man had asked, so he had to take it at face value, and there were now two options.

He could decline, say he was busy or something – even though he felt unhappy about lying to the man now. Castiel would accept that he had said no but would probably distance himself from Dean. And a big part of him really didn’t want to say no.

On the other hand, he could say yes, meet Castiel for breakfast. It would probably result in questions he didn’t want to answer, and Cas would see him outside of work. He would just be himself, as a person, and that was more than likely going to scare Castiel away. Shit, he’d thought enough times that the man would run if he knew what was good for him, so maybe this would finally be the thing that made that a reality.

His phone buzzed again, and he read the next message.

 **_Cas 09:01 ‘I do need you to know this would be purely a meal as work acquaintances.’_ **

Okay, well, that made things clearer and somewhat easier, he supposed. Castiel had drawn a line and made sure it was absolutely clear – they were only work acquaintances, not friends. He felt disappointment and relief at the same time, which for some people would be odd. For him it was normal. He had mixed feelings on pretty much everything these days.

Though he had to admit it was also extremely confusing. Castiel had drawn a line, which was fine. But it was in opposition to the fact that the man had spent hours holding Dean the day before, watching him break over and over again and being so physically and emotionally close with him. Castiel had talked to him throughout, gentle and encouraging, and praising him repeatedly. Wasn’t that strange for someone who was just a work acquaintance?

 **_Dean 09:02 ‘Hey Cas. Just woke up soz. Sure where?’_ **

**_Cas 09:03 ‘Would you like to meet me at the Café near work?’_ **

**_Cas 09:03 ‘What does soz mean?’_ **

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. Of course, Castiel would be the type of person to not fully understand shortened words even in text messages. He had completely banned the use of slang in the classroom on the second day.

 **_Dean 09:05 ‘Haha it means sorry. Cool gimme half hour?’_ **

**_Cas 09:07 ‘I will see you there.’_ **

Dean just shook his head, smiling to himself. He would have to get Castiel to learn slang somehow, or at least understand it.

For now, though, he focused on getting ready. He had already gotten out of bed while he was texting with Cas, so he headed for the bathroom. He yelled out to Sam about going out for breakfast, then closed the bathroom door and started his shower.

Once he was finished, cleaned, and dressed again, he made his way out to the kitchen and glanced at the clock over the fridge. 9:20 – He’d taken ten minutes to shower, which meant he had five minutes before he needed to leave.

“So, where you off to?” Sam asked from the table.

“Just out.” Dean answered, but Sam’s look said he wasn’t going to drop it. He sighed and shrugged. “Meeting someone for breakfast. A work friend.”

“A new work friend?” Sam looked up from the paper he was reading.

“Yes, Dad, a new work friend.” Dean answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Look I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

Dean grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and made to leave, but paused as Sam yelled out again.

“Dean!” He met Sam’s eyes, waiting for some lecture about not getting attached. “Be careful.”

Dean smiled slightly and nodded.

“Always am.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Dean? What are you doin’ here on a weekend?”

The barista at the café called out pretty much the second Dean walked through the door. Dean couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the sight of the blonde girl, and he didn’t stop himself from walking over and catching her in a hug that made her laugh.

“Hey Sis. Mom around?”

“Nah, she’s out getting something or other.” Jo laughed and shook her head at him, then went to start on his usual coffee order. “So, my question still stands.”

“I dunno. Something different, I guess.” Dean deflected as he glanced around. He spotted Castiel sitting down, reading some kind of book. “Hey, uh, Jo?”

“Hm?”

“I’m just gonna go sit down. You mind bringing that over?” Dean pointed to the booth, trying to avoid Jo’s eye.

“Ah. Something different, hm?” Jo asked, then laughed as he blushed. “Go sit your ass down. I’ll be out in five.”

Dean started toward the booth, then stopped and looked back at Jo. That girl was always up to no good, and it didn’t sit right that she was being nice for some reason.

“Oh, Jo? Don’t embarrass me.” Jo glanced at him with a grin that did not make Dean feel better in any way. “Seriously.”

“Scout’s honour.”

Dean rolled his eyes and walked away. The fact that the scout sign Jo held up was completely incorrect made him feel even more certain that she would do something to embarrass him, but there was no way to avoid it now. He probably should have suggested a different place to have breakfast, he realised. He wondered what Castiel would think when he realised these people were family, and how crazy they all were.

As he approached the booth, Castiel glanced up and smiled. The professor gestured for him to sit in the seat opposite, so Dean did, lowering himself into the booth with no small amount of trepidation. Castiel set his book aside and focused on Dean.

“Dean. Thank you for joining me. Have you ordered food yet?”

“Oh. Uh, no. Just a coffee.” Dean answered, fidgeting with the printed menu on the table. “I’ll order when Jo comes over.”

“Okay. I’ve already ordered, but I asked them to hold it until my company arrived.”

Dean was opening his mouth to respond, but right then he noticed the song had changed. He listened for a moment, then shook his head and blushed. He was going to kill Jo.

 _'I can't fight this feeling any longer,_ _a_ _nd yet I'm still afraid to let it flow  
What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show.'_

“Is the music bothering you?” Castiel asked, his head tilted to the side slightly.

“No, no. Just Jo is being a bitch.” Dean grumbled.

“Is Jo your… girlfriend?” Castiel asked, his head still tilted with an unreadable expression.

Dean was saved from answering by Jo’s hysterical giggling as she overheard the conversation. His coffee cup was placed on the table, thankfully with minimal spills, as Jo doubled over laughing. Dean just rolled his eyes yet again as he waited for her to stop laughing enough to actually be able to speak to Castiel.

“Nah. Jo is pretty much my sister. When Sammy and I moved here, she along with Ellen and Uncle Bobby were the first ones we got to know. Uncle Bobby is related, but we kind of adopted ourselves into the rest of the family.” Dean explained, then turned a glare onto Jo. “Really, Jo? REO?”

Jo finally recovered from her giggles and fixed him with a sarcastic smile, her eyebrow raised and her hand on her hip in that well known pose.

“Damn right, REO. He sings it from the heart. Problem with that?”

“Jo-anna Beth, you leave that boy alone right now.” Ellen’s voice rang out through the café, and Dean had never been so grateful to hear it.

Jo gave him one last withering look before she left, headed over to help Ellen bring in groceries. Dean glanced over, but thankfully Ellen didn’t seem to be planning on coming over – she’d already gone back outside. He glanced back at Castiel, then dropped his eyes.

“Sorry, I shoulda warned you.” Dean said softly, shrugging one shoulder. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Perhaps it would have been prudent. But it’s okay, Dean. I understand you may not have thought of it.” Dean glanced up, and Castiel gave him a slight smile. “I wanted to discuss how you are feeling, but I understand this might not be the right place to do that. Would you like to go for a walk instead?”

“Um. Sure. But, you ordered breakfast, we can maybe go after that?”

“Are you hungry?”

Castiel gave him a look, that same one that meant he knew Dean was about to lie and was asking him not to. Finally, Dean shook his head, though he felt bad for doing it. He rarely ate anything before lunch, but he had been willing to today. He knew the professor ate in the mornings and felt bad that he was about to stop him from eating, just to talk about Dean’s feelings and his breakdown the day before. But Castiel just smiled and got up from the table, making his way over to the counter.

Ten minutes later they were sitting on a park bench, watching the little creek as it rippled over the rocks. They both held a coffee, and Castiel had asked for his breakfast in a to-go bag that he had set on the bench beside him. They were sitting in silence, seeming that one was waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Dean spoke first.

“I’m sorry, you know. About yesterday. You shouldn’t have had to do that.” He took a deep breath and glanced at Castiel. The man was staring at the water, just watching it thoughtfully, not responding. “I just… I’m not great with a lot of things. I lost something, and I guess it just got the better of me.”

“Your notebook.”

Dean whipped his head around to stare wide-eyed and confused at Castiel, who was holding out the little notebook to him with a slight smile. Dean took it, but he didn’t open it. He just sat there, holding the little book in his hands, wondering. Had Castiel read it? Had he seen what Dean’s thoughts were like? Surely if he had read it, there's no way he would have wanted to meet with him today.

“Dean, breathe. I did not open it.” Castiel reached out a hand and gently laid it on Dean’s shoulder supportively. “The cleaners must have found it and left it on my desk. I recognised it, and was planning to give it to you yesterday, but-”

“You didn’t get a chance.” Dean finished, breathing slow and steady to work through the panic that had started, but somehow was quickly dissipating. “It’s... it’s fine. I guess I was just worried someone had read it.”

“I would not invade your privacy like that, Dean.”

“I know, man. I trust you.”

Castiel just nodded and, after a few moments, removed his hand from Dean’s shoulder. Dean carefully stowed the notebook away, and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. He took a sip of his coffee, thinking about what he had said. It was so easy to trust Castiel, and it should scare him. But for some reason this one thing, as strange as it was, this didn’t scare him.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Castiel spoke again, glancing at Dean. “Do you remember what I told you yesterday?”

“Which part?” Dean asked, staring down at his coffee cup. His cheeks flushed as the memories of the day before came into his head.

“You are not alone. There are people around you who care about you. Not only that, but you are not alone in going through this.” Dean glanced over at the man again, noticing that he was twisting the beads on his arm. The next words seemed hesitant. “I have been through… something similar myself. I do understand, Dean, more than you know.”

“You?” Dean asked in surprise, but when Castiel shot him a hurt look, he realised he spoke too quickly and amended. “I don’t mean that – I mean, you’re just so calm and together. You’re strong, and you don’t seem like you’d let little stuff get to you.”

Castiel chuckled slightly and shook his head. He seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes shifting up to stare at the sky through the canopy of trees over them. His hand kept on twisting the beads, undoing them from his wrist and putting them back on. Dean watched quietly, wondering if it was a reaction for anxiety, or if he was counting, or something completely different. Castiel always seemed to play with those beads whenever he was focused, or stressed.

“I was not always this way. I’ve learned patience, strength, understanding - all through a lot of failure and hard lessons. But being strong does not mean that you cannot feel your emotions. Part of being strong is acceptance, along with being patient and understanding with your own self. I did not understand that, before.” Castiel took a breath and brought his eyes back down to meet Dean’s. “I had someone to help me. I would like to offer you my assistance, albeit in a slightly different way, if you would find it helpful.”

Dean was quiet for a few moments, trying to understand what the man was saying. He didn’t fully understand what it meant to have patience with himself, and it seemed that Castiel was offering to teach him that. The problem was, he had a million doubts that he would be able to actually learn anything new. He wasn't smart enough, was too broken and uncontrolled. Still…

“Yeah. Yes, I mean.” Dean nodded slightly, then chuckled. “I mean… I doubt I’ll be a great student or whatever but… Man, nobody has ever been able to calm me down like that. So I guess if you think you can help me then, I’ll try to learn.”

“I would certainly like the opportunity. You need to understand that it will not be easy, and you will need to follow instructions without argument. Could you do that? Are you comfortable with relinquishing control?”

“As in… You want to order me around?” Dean frowned slightly, confused.

“Not in the way you imagine.” Castiel smiled slightly, and something in his eyes calmed Dean. “Sometimes, when it feels like our life is out of control, it can help to have somebody to introduce that control, make it so that you don’t have to make all the decisions. I would not be ordering you to do menial tasks like a servant. What I would be doing is asking you to do certain things for your own health. If you do not feel comfortable you can say no at any time and I would not push you.”

Dean thought about it. This sounded like the path to some weird fifty shades stuff, but he supposed there was no harm in trying. And he didn’t think Castiel would use it in a bad way. It sounded like he really wanted to help, and thought this was a way to do that, for whatever reason. Still, he couldn’t help voicing his thoughts, even though he felt uncomfortable doing so.

“Isn’t that like… Uh, you know.” Dean glanced at Castiel, waiting for him to pick up on what Dean wasn’t saying. But of course, he didn’t, so Dean had to elaborate, flushing faintly. “That… BDSM stuff.”

“Ah.” Castiel nodded, understanding. “Yes, it is very much that. However, there are both sexual and non-sexual aspects of BDSM. As I said before, this is a work relationship, so the relationship would be purely platonic. I have noticed you seem to respond to things of what is known as a submissive nature, and that is part of why I believe this route would be beneficial for you.”

“Oh.” Submissive? What did that even mean for him as a person?

“You did not know that there could be a non-sexual aspect of BDSM?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side in an adorably cute confused expression.

“Uh... No. And can you stop saying that, man. Seriously.”

Castiel laughed softly in response, and Dean flushed again but he couldn't help laughing too at his own embarrassment.

“I think we’ll leave that conversation there for today. You don’t need to give me an answer now, and I would rather you didn't. I will send you some things to research, and we can go from there. Come.”

Castiel stood from the bench, and Dean followed him as he started walking along the path that ran beside the little creek. They both tossed their empty cups into a trash can and just walked for a few minutes leisurely.

They spent the next half hour just walking peacefully, wandering the paths. Castiel questioned how he was feeling, and Dean answered honestly. He was calmer today than he had been in a long time and felt lighter. He told Castiel that he was planning to make a few changes to his room, and explained how bare it currently was.

Castiel had been encouraging and asked further questions about his plans for the day, then provided some suggestions. Dean had appreciated the suggestions from books to photos and where he could get some nice homewares. When they finally made it back to the Café, they were both laughing as Dean was explaining why he was absolutely not going to paint his room.

Finally they stopped, and just spent a few moments looking at each other. Castiel had a soft smile that Dean had only ever seen directed at him, and it made him feel warm.

“I have to go now, but thank you for joining me this morning. It has been lovely.”

“Yeah, I had a good time too. Thanks, man.” Dean grinned slightly – he really had enjoyed himself. “I’ll text you about… Uh, the other thing… Later.”

“No. I will send you some things to research. After that, you don’t need to answer right away. I would rather you take the weekend to think it over and come back to me on Monday. It’s a big thing to process.” Castiel told him lightly. “If you choose to accept, would it be okay if I was to give you something?”

“Uh… Yeah, of course, as long as I don’t have to wear a collar or anything.” Dean answered, feeling slightly nervous. Would he have to wear a collar?

“No, nothing like that. Just a small item that I think would be helpful.”

Dean nodded slightly, trusting. Castiel smiled in response, and they said a quick goodbye before going their separate ways. Dean glanced over at the Café and saw Jo watching him with a glint in her eye, Ellen nowhere to be seen. He rolled his eyes and turned away, heading back to the car. He was absolutely not going to open that can of worms with Jo today.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


	6. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hurts himself by accident and finds himself realising how far he's drifted from Sam.
> 
> Castiel finds his wounds after checking on his injury; and they discuss the proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter mentions Dean's wounds from self harm.

“Son of a bitch!”

Dean yelled and dropped the hammer that he was using as he let out another string of curses and tucked his left hand under his arm. He heard a bang from the other room, then Sam’s lumbering footsteps down the hall. His door flew open and Sam stood there, looking in to see what had happened.

“What the hell, Dean?!”

“Hit myself with the god damn hammer. Shit!”

“Alright, quit yelling!”

Sam grumbled as he helped Dean get down off the ladder, then lead him over to sit on the bed. He pulled on Dean’s arm until he relented and held his left hand out, shaking. Sam looked over it – it was already starting to bruise around his knuckle and index finger. And of course, Sam just had to poke it, which made Dean yell and push him away.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Sam told him impatiently and grabbed for the hand again.

“Then don’t poke it! It freakin’ hurts man, just leave it alone.”

“Dean, I need to see if it’s broken or not.” Sam paused, and stared at him with his classic bitch face. “Or we can just go to the hospital.”

“Fine.”

Dean rolled his eyes and held out the hand he’d hurt, trying to ignore Sam’s poking and prodding. He’d been trying to hammer a picture hook into the wall, to hang one of the pictures he had framed, but missed the nail and hit his hand instead. It still hurt like a bitch, and he grit his teeth against the pain while Sam checked it over.

“Only you could break your hand hammering in a nail.” Sam told him, getting up from the bed.

“Wait, broken?”

Dean paused, the pain being replaced by fear. It couldn’t be broken. If it was broken, he’d have to go to hospital. If he went to hospital, they’d see the rest of his arm. Sam hadn’t said anything, but Dean knew he could see it. But if the hospital saw that, they probably wouldn’t let him leave. Sam was watching him as he processed all this, and seemed to take pity on him. His brother sighed and shook his head, turning away with a pained expression.

“I’ll get a few things from the first aid kit. Don’t move.”

Sam left the room, but was back in a few minutes with a bunch of things. He didn’t say anything to Dean as he worked on the hand, but he wasn’t exactly gentle with him. Dean just watched and stayed quiet. He could see that Sam was annoyed with him, so it was best to avoid making that any worse right now.

Eventually Sam finished bandaging his hand and finger up. He’d splinted the finger so that Dean couldn’t move it, and wrapped the hand tight enough that Dean would have to try pretty hard to do anything with it. It seemed pretty stable, and Dean mumbled his thanks. Sam just sighed.

“It should really be looked at properly, but… It’s the best I can do.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, well, not going to a hospital. Thanks, Sammy.” Dean made to get off the bed, then stopped. Sam was just staring at him with a soft smile. “What?”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that in a week.”

“Yeah, so?”

“You haven’t called me Sammy for years, Dean.”

Dean frowned as he thought about it. Surely it hadn’t been that long. It was the way they were; he called his brother Sammy, Sam pretended he hated it and bitched about it, but really he liked it. They did it all the time. But as he tried to remember the last time, he realised he couldn’t. He’d drifted away from everyone, retreating into himself so badly that he’d even drifted away from Sam, the one person he was supposed to be close to. That realisation made him feel terrible, and he looked back at Sam sadly.

“Man I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was-”

“No, dude, you don’t need to apologise.” Sam stopped him and shook his head. “I get it, you’re going through stuff. It’s just nice, feels like my brother is coming back.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. Was he really so bad that Sam felt that he was completely gone? He hadn’t realised how badly his depression was affecting not only him, but the people around him. Thinking about it, though, Sam was right. Things had become so different without him even realising. They rarely spent any time together anymore, and they didn’t have that same banter that they used to.

“You know if you want to talk…” Sam started, but Dean shook his head with a slight grin.

“Dude. No chick flicks, okay?”

Sam laughed at the old saying that Dean always used, and Dean found himself laughing too.

“Yeah, okay. Just call it a night, okay? I’ll call in pizza and we can have a beer. You’ve gotta be at training again tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good.” Dean nodded.

“Okay, who are you? You hate Mondays.” Sam frowned.

“Yeah, well.. Shut up.” Dean grumbled, making Sam laugh. “Just go order pizza.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Sam teased, laughing as he made his way out of the room.

“Bitch!” Dean yelled down the hall, then grinned as he heard the answering ‘Jerk!’ float back to him.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A few hours later, Dean laid in bed, flipping his phone nervously in his hand. He chewed on his lip, thinking. Castiel had sent him several links for research, and he’d thoroughly investigated each and every one of them. From what he had read, Castiel was right – he had a submissive nature, he wanted someone to take control so that he didn’t have to worry if he was right or wrong.

He’d read through all of the platonic relationship stuff and could understand how Castiel had come to the idea that it could be helpful for him. Dean had to admit that he thought it would be helpful, and he could enjoy not having to make every single decision – if Castiel would take some of those decisions, he trusted the man enough that he wouldn’t worry whether he was doing the right thing or not.

Then, of course, he’d clicked away from the platonic version. He’d followed some google searches to end up on the other side of it, and started researching that. A lot of it was way outside his comfort zone, and he wasn’t even looking at that. But some of it piqued his interest – in particular, the words ‘praise kink’.

He had clicked out of that quickly, though. Crossing that line wasn’t an option for Castiel, and it would only be playing with fire to start getting interested. Still, the idea of a platonic relationship, what Castiel had suggested, was interesting. Whether he was willing to take that leap, that risk, though was another thing.

He bit down on his lip and worried it between his teeth, thinking. Then finally, he unlocked his phone and sent a text before he could change his mind again.

**_Dean 21:35 ‘Yes.’_** :

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next day seemed to pass incredibly slow for Dean. He barely made it on time, so he had no chance to talk before the class began. Through the day he kept stealing furtive glances at Castiel, trying to figure out what his response to Dean’s answer was, but the man didn’t give anything away. He carried on his day as usual, directing the class to read specific texts, or complete quizzes.

More than once Dean turned from his finished reading or quiz to find Castiel sitting beside him, leaning forward on his little stool. When Dean looked up, Castiel would smile and nod slightly, then be on his way.

By the time lunch break rolled around, Dean didn’t think he could make it through the rest of the day. As it turned out, though, Castiel caught his eye and made a silent gesture for him to stay as the rest of the class filed out. Dean made it seem as though he was gathering his things, preventing any questions until eventually the class was empty. Dean sighed in relief and relaxed back into the seat, taking a moment to gather himself.

“Hello, Dean. I received your answer.” Castiel drew up a proper chair to sit in, facing Dean. “We have a few things to go through, but I would like to thank you for trusting me.”

“Uh, sure… You’re an easy guy to trust so…” Dean shrugged slightly, watching Castiel as he pulled a small cardboard box from his pocket.

“I would like to give you this first. As I said, it’s just something small, but here.”

Dean took the little box with a slight smile. Thankfully, it was one of those boxes that the entire lid lifted, so he had no trouble opening it with one hand. When he opened the box, he sucked in a sharp breath of surprise, and felt his eyes sting slightly. Carefully, he placed the box on the table, and with his good right hand he pulled out a string of beads exactly like the ones Castiel wore.

“Cas…”

“Here. They’re called Mala beads.” Castiel held out a hand for the beads, and Dean passed them over. Carefully, Castiel took the beads and wrapped them around the wrist of his good hand – the string stretched slightly, so that once twisted over his arm they settled comfortably around his wrist like a bracelet, a perfect match to Castiel’s. "They're designed as prayer beads, but you can use them to help you focus and fight the panic. Counting seems to help you.'

Dean just stared at them for a few moments, feeling a tear slip free.

“If you don’t like them-”

Castiel started, then stopped as Dean surged forward and hugged him. Castiel chuckled softly, and Dean felt only a brief hesitation before the man’s arms slipped around him, holding him for a moment. Castiel pulled away too soon, and Dean sat back, then made to wipe the tear away.

“I love them. Thank- Ow, shit.” Dean sucked in a sharp breath again, this time with pain.

He’d gone to wipe his cheek with the wrong hand, jolted his hand and finger, and now his hand flared up with pain. Automatically, he moved to hold the hand close to his body, but Castiel stopped him. The professor grabbed his wrist, gently pulling his hand away from his body and holding it still.

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt it more. I noticed this before. What happened?” Castiel asked, still holding his wrist.

“Hit it with a hammer. Broke it. Stupid, really.” Dean shrugged slightly.

Castiel’s eyes darkened slightly, and his lips turned down in a disapproving frown.

“I would prefer if you didn’t call yourself names, Dean.” Castiel told him firmly, and Dean nodded slightly. “May I take a look? This bandage is far too loose.”

“Yeah, sure. Sam did it last night so maybe the swelling went down.”

“Sam? That’s… your brother, correct? You didn’t go to the hospital?” Castiel asked as he looked over the bandage to find where it was pinned.

“Nah, I don’t – Oh shit, wait…” Dean realised just as Castiel pushed his sleeve back, why he shouldn’t have let him look.

Castiel froze for a moment, his hand still on the sleeve that was now pushed up Dean’s forearm to his elbow. Dean looked away, not wanting to see the reaction, tears pricking at his eyes again. Damnit, he was so stupid. He’d forgotten that Sam had pinned the bandage down at his wrist, and then he’d pulled his sleeve over the bandage. So of course, to find the end, Castiel was going to have to lift the sleeve.

“Dean.”

He sucked in a breath and turned back to look at Castiel. The man was staring over the burns that made their way as lines up Dean’s arm, all of them at varying stages of healing. Castiel’s fingers came up to trace over the lines gently, even the most recent ones from a few days ago. Dean sucked in a breath of pain when he hit those ones. Castiel continued to inspect the skin, turning Dean's arm slightly to see the scars that were healed and older as well as the fresh ones. 

“You did this?” Castiel asked gently, meeting his eyes again.

Dean couldn’t answer in words, even though he could tell Castiel knew the answer. He just nodded slightly, watching Castiel, waiting for the part where he decided Dean was too much work to be bothered with. But somehow, he didn’t seem to – a few moments passed, then he went back to the bandage and started to unravel it as though nothing had happened.

For minutes, Castiel worked in silence, neither of them speaking. He was gentle every step, carefully unwrapping the bandage and looking at Dean’s hand. He was just as gentle, and just as silent, as he re wrapped the injured hand firmly. Finally, Dean couldn’t take it anymore, and he had to say something.

“I’m… I’m sorry. It stops the pain, the thoughts, everything. I just… It was an accident, the first time, and now I just…” He paused and sniffed, the tears running freely down his cheeks.

“I understand, Dean.”

Castiel looked up from what he was doing, and Dean had to catch his breath. The way that Castiel had been sitting to take care of his hand meant than when he suddenly lifted his head, they were barely a breath apart. He couldn’t help staring into Castiel’s eyes, that deep blue somehow brighter right now than he’d ever seen it.

Castiel seemed to be struggling with something himself, his eyes flitting over Dean’s face for several moments. Eventually, though, he moved back – and Dean let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed at the space, but he didn’t have much time to ponder that as Castiel seemed to collect himself and started speaking again.

“I understand why you do it. I will ask you not to, though, and certainly to tell me if you feel like you are at that point again. Will you do that?”

Dean nodded slowly, staring at Castiel still, searching his eyes for some kind of answer as to why he was still willing to help, still putting up with Dean and his faults. Castiel smiled slightly and tilted his head as he watched Dean, then raised a hand to gently rest on his cheek. Dean closed his eyes with a soft sigh, tilting his head into Castiel’s hand.

It was nice to be touched like this. He wasn’t going to try to read too much into it, but the way that Castiel’s thumb brushed over his cheek, stroking the skin there, calmed him immensely. He felt cared about and safe here. All too soon the touch was gone and he flicked his eyes open to see Castiel looking away, his beads off his wrist as he ran them through his hands absently.

“Are you still happy to pursue the offer I gave you?” Castiel asked him lightly after a beat, changing the subject.

“Yeah. Yes.” Dean answered with a nod.

“Okay. I don’t believe we need a written contract – but I do think we need to discuss it verbally.” Castiel told him.

Dean agreed, and they spent the rest of the lunch hour discussing what this would look like and involve. Castiel requested that Dean trust him to take control as he was asked, and to never do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. He explained that should Dean feel uncomfortable, he was to ask him to stop, and Castiel would listen.

He also made it clear that the relationship was to stay platonic. Castiel explained that in these situations, lines could easily blur, and he didn’t feel that would be healthy for Dean. Dean agreed, and they moved on. They moved on to what types of things Dean responded to and needed out of the arrangement – which made Dean flush with embarrassment.

“You respond well to both touch and praise, I have noticed.” Castiel commented and smiled at Dean’s flush. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I feel it’s important to use that to help you.”

Dean nodded slightly, and the conversation continued. Castiel explained that many things he asked of Dean may be difficult, as he was having to re-learn how to view himself. He would also have to try not to argue when complimented, and eventually to believe the compliments. Eventually they both sat back, and Dean was surprised to feel exhausted. He told Castiel as much.

“It’s understandable. When you have heavy conversations, it puts a strain on your emotions and thoughts. It’s quite normal to feel tired after something like that.” Castiel told him, then glanced at the clock. “Our time is almost up. The class will be back soon. Right now, I would like you to go and eat something, as well as drink some water. Water, not coffee, Dean. Come back in ten minutes.”

Castiel held his gaze even as he briefly hesitated – But finally Dean nodded and stood from his seat. He left the room and made his way to the kitchen, thinking as he pulled his lunch out of the fridge. He felt a certain kind of satisfaction as he sat down to eat his leftover pizza, and sip from the bottle of water he’d grabbed. Oddly, he felt that same sort of feeling as he did when Castiel told him he was good. He was doing good; he was doing the right thing. It felt… nice.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“You did great today, Dean.”

Dean sighed softly, closing his eyes with a smile. He felt Castiel’s words wash through him, and strangely he didn’t argue. Not because he couldn’t, but because he believed it – He’d done exactly as he was told, every time. He had done good. He’d done right.

When he opened his eyes again, Castiel was smiling gently, once again sitting in a proper seat facing him. The class was empty already, as everyone had left for the day. Castiel reached out and gently rested a hand on his arm, providing the touch that Dean needed.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked him.

“Good. Warm.” Dean answered quietly. “Peaceful.”

“Hm. That’s good, very good. Thank you for being honest with me.” Castiel answered and gently rubbed his hand up and down Dean's arm. “Tonight I do not want you to study. I know that you spend too long studying already.”

Dean frowned slightly, looking at Castiel. He did study most nights, but he thought that was a good thing? Still, he listened.

“I’d like you to go home and have dinner. After dinner, make sure you have a hot shower and go to bed at a decent time. I would like you to let me know once you have done that, then get a good night's sleep. Is that okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean answered, intending it to be a sassy answer.

But he couldn’t ignore the way Castiel’s eyes darkened slightly, nor the way his lips parted in barely hidden surprise. He couldn’t deny that Castiel took a moment to compose himself, looking away from Dean as he wet his lips. The only explanation for his reaction was that he had felt the same thrill Dean did as he had said it, and was trying to ignore it.

In that moment Dean realised that keeping that clear line between them was going to be more difficult than he had realised.


	7. Safe words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look, surprise mid week update :)

_‘It’s all your fault! You didn’t save her!’_

_A faceless man screamed and pointed his finger. He held a bundle in his arms, a bundle that Dean recognised all too well. The little girl that he knew was inside cried, her little screams breaking his heart into a million pieces. He turned, looking at the building that was still on fire as tears streamed down his cheeks. Benny sat there, on the back of the ambulance, staring at him with disappointment. His ankle was being treated by a paramedic, and Dean could see that it was swollen and bruised. Broken, guaranteed._

_‘He’s right, you know. You shoulda left me, brother.’ Benny told him. ‘I woulda survived ‘til the boys came, but she couldn’t. She’d inhaled too much smoke. You coulda just put my mask on her face, given her air. She woulda lived.’_

_‘I know! I know, okay!’ Dean screamed, dropping to his knees. ‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I fucked up and… And I can’t make it right.’_

_The faceless man stood in front of him now, holding the crying bundle. Dean looked up at him, waiting for a punch, a kick, anything but the words. The words hurt more._

_‘Sorry won’t bring her mom back, will it? Now she has to grow up without one, just like you.’_

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

****

**_Dean 06:41 ‘I can’t do this.’_ **

**_Cas 06:43 ‘Breathe, Dean. Talk to me. What can’t you do?’_ **

**_Dean 06:45 ‘This.’_ **

**_Dean 06:45 ‘Anything. Everything.’_ **

**_Dean 06:45 ‘I’m gonna mess up, do something stupid.’_ **

**_Cas 06:46 ‘Dean, stop. I need you to listen. Are you in bed right now?’_ **

**_Dean 06:46 ‘Yeah.’_ **

**_Cas 06:48 ‘Okay. I need you to get out of bed. Go to the bathroom and run the cold water. Cup the water in your hands, and rinse your face in it a few times. Focus on how it feels, and how it sounds. When you feel ready, call me.’_ **

Weird, but okay. Dean dragged himself out of bed, not really thinking about what he was doing. It was easier to just follow the instructions. He went into the bathroom as instructed, cupped his hands under the cold water and let them fill. He listened to the steady sound of the water running. He felt the cold wetness on his skin as he dipped his face into his cupped hands, the water washing away the tears. He noticed the way that when he lifted his head, the droplets clung to his hair but ran down his face.

He found himself repeating the action several more times before he finally turned the water off and dried his face on the towel that hung on the back of the door. He had to admit he did feel slightly better. Not so much calmer, but able to string his thoughts together somewhat. He made his way back to his bedroom, picked up his phone from the bed, and dialed Castiel as he made his way to the kitchen for coffee.

As the phone rang, he noticed Sam had already started the machine and a fresh pot of coffee waited for him.

_Thank god for that._

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s voice came through the speaker, rougher than Dean was used to hearing it. He must have woken the guy up. “How are you feeling now?”

“More awake.” Dean answered, keeping his voice down. He wasn’t sure if Sam was still in the apartment or not. “I, uh… Never really took that much notice of washing my face before.”

“Hm. So, you did exactly as I asked?”

“Yeah, man. It sounded weird, but I did it. And, uh, it kinda helped slow things down, if that makes sense.”

“Good boy. You did very good, Dean.”

Dean felt that warmth blossom in his chest again at the words, and he sighed softly. Castiel hummed on the other end, but aside from that he was quiet for a few moments. Dean took the time to fill his cup with coffee, holding the phone against his shoulder with his cheek so he could use his good hand. He popped the lid onto the spill proof travel mug before he took a careful sip. He sighed contentedly. Perfect temperature.

He leaned back against the counter, listening – and he couldn’t help noticing the song playing from Castiel’s end. It made him chuckle.

“Are you playing over the rainbow at-” Dean glanced at the clock. “Seven fifteen in the morning?”

“Yes.” Castiel sounded pleased that he had recognised the tune. “It is one of my favourite songs.”

It was quickly becoming one of Dean’s favourite songs, too. Mostly, he imagined, because he associated it with Castiel now. The man had played it every afternoon since Dean had heard it, and it made him smile every damn time. He didn’t mention that out loud, though, somehow having a feeling that things like that would push the man away. It seemed like a very careful line he had to tread with the man to keep their relationship professional as Castiel had asked, despite that he felt several lines were being crossed as it was. And he wasn't the only one crossing lines, either.

“Would you like to tell me what happened this morning?” Castiel asked quietly.

Dean sighed softly and made his way over to the couch to sit down.

“I dunno, man. I woke up, but then I couldn’t get out of bed. I had a… A bad dream, ‘bout one time I screwed up big.” Dean took a breath, trying to ignore the weight in his chest when he mentioned the dream. ‘I just kept thinking how many things I could screw up now.’

“Okay. And do you intend to ‘screw anything up’?” Castiel asked him.

“No, of course not! But it just… it happens. And I can’t stop it. I make mistakes and I’m stupid, and it happens.”

“You are not stupid.” Castiel sounded almost angry, and it made Dean pause for a second. “What matters is the intention behind your action, Dean, not necessarily the outcome. Every one of us makes mistakes, it is how we learn. But do not let your mistakes define who you are.”

“I…” Dean was at a loss, not sure what to say to that. Castiel was quiet on the other end, and Dean knew it was because he was patiently waiting for Dean to figure out his thoughts. Eventually, he spoke again. “Cas, man, I don’t know if I can do that. It’s… It’s all I think about. Everything I’ve done wrong, everything I could do wrong…”

He trailed off as he noticed Sam walking through the door. He absolutely did not want Sam to hear him pouring his soul out on the phone, because it would start questions. As much as he found it easy to talk with Castiel about his feelings, he couldn’t do that with Sam. Or anyone, really.

“You can do it, but it will not be immediate. It will take time.” Castiel told him. “Today, I want you to do something. Every time you think like this, I want you to use your beads. With each bead you feel, I want you to tell yourself it is okay to make mistakes. Can you do that for me?”

Dean thought about it. Usually, coming from anyone else, he would say no, but this wasn’t a request. It was an order. He felt that he could, knowing it was something he had to do to be a good boy. And he knew if he could do it, Castiel would tell him he was good. He wanted that. Needed it.

“Yes.”

“Good, Dean. That’s very good. But I want you to know I am not concerned with the outcome of the day; as long as you have done what I asked, I will be happy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean answered softly, unable to help himself from saying the one thing he knew for a fact that Castiel seemed to like. The sharp intake of breath from the other end didn’t disappoint.

“Dean, I want you to do one more thing for me.” Castiel told him after a pause, then hesitated. “…While you drive to work, I want you to think of a safe word.”

“A… what?” Dean blinked. He knew what a safe word was – but he didn’t expect to need one in this situation.

“It’s mostly a precaution. But I feel that we should each have a safe word, that we can use if things get too much. I’d like you to think of one, and when we talk this afternoon, we can exchange our decisions.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, Cas.” Dean agreed.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“So, what was that? New girl in your life?” Sam asked with a slight grin as Dean finally hung up the call at seven thirty. "Or guy?"

“What? No. Why?” Dean asked, busying himself with making toast for some eggs Sam had fried and left for him.

“It’s that new work friend you mentioned on the weekend, isn’t it?”

Sam asked, and Dean immediately felt himself flush at the memory of the weekend breakfast he’d shared with Cas. Damnit, he knew he had to keep it platonic, but he was feeling things he hadn’t felt in years every single time he thought of the Professor. Some of what he felt were things he had never even experienced feeling before, and it was starting to scare the hell out of him.

He hadn’t had a fully functioning libido in a long time and he knew it was the way his depression was affecting him. He also knew that the depression wasn’t gone, a long way from it. But something about Castiel was starting to make him realise how long it had been. And yeah, maybe it was an excuse for him to blame his feelings on the fact that he hadn’t been laid in years.

“I knew it!” Sam crowed, laughing jubilantly. “Dean’s got a cru-ush.”

“Sammy, just drop it, okay?” Dean grabbed his plate, loaded the eggs onto toast and took it to the table, not looking up the whole time. “Please.”

Sam must have heard something in his voice because there was no answering retort. Dean sighed softly, trying to get his mind off whatever he was feeling toward Castiel, and back to the idea of breakfast.

They ate breakfast together and Sam didn’t say anything more about it, choosing to stick to questions about how the training was going. Dean responded with short answers, not really focusing on anything until he’d finished eating. It wasn’t until Sam was washing their dishes that he brought up the subject again.

“So listen… I noticed that you seem to be doing better, and it seems to be tied in with when you started this training.” Sam started carefully. “Just wondering, and I swear I’m not teasing but... Does it have to do with anyone in particular?”

“Sam.” Dean warned, but Sam held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I swear, I’m not gonna tease or joke. Just, come on, Dean. I’m your brother. Talk to me.”

Dean sighed and shook his head, focusing on the plates he was currently drying and putting away. He supposed he couldn’t blame Sam for noticing something different. Even he could notice that he was behaving differently, so it stood to reason that Sam was concerned.

Finally, he put the last plate away and dropped the towel, turning to look at Sam.

“Fine. Yeah, okay? It has to do with… someone. But it’s not what you’re thinking.” Dean frowned and looked down at his hands. “I can just talk with him, y’know? He’s seen more of my bullshit in the last week than most people have, ever. And he’s still there for some reason. I trust him. And I know it’s dumb, but I… I do. He seems to care and he’s trying to help.”

Dean waited a few moments for a response, but when none came, he glanced up to see Sam staring at him with a surprised expression.

“What?” He grumbled.

“Just… Wow, Dean. You trusting anyone is a big deal, especially in such a short time.” Sam told him, then blew out a breath and frowned. “It sounds like he does care... And I know you don’t want to hear it, but be careful, please. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

There was nothing Dean could really say to that. He was trying to be careful, trying to keep himself distanced, but he couldn’t seem to control the way he felt. It was like he just clicked with Castiel - the man understood him, and all Dean could do was hold on for the ride. To be honest it terrified him - but he wasn’t about to say any of that to Sam, it would just worry him more than he already was. So instead, he just nodded slightly and left the kitchen to get ready for work.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly for Dean. He concentrated well enough on his work and put the effort into learning what Castiel was teaching. There were a few times he noticed a mistake and started to beat himself up about it – but every time he remembered his instruction and used his beads, telling himself it was okay to make mistakes. He didn’t know if he believed it or not, but it didn’t matter. Because Castiel believed it.

Once lunch break rolled around, he and Castiel ate together in the meeting room. Castiel asked him if he’d thought of a safe word – Dean had chosen ‘Impala.’ Of course. Castiel smiled in response, then told him his own safe word was simply ‘Red’. Castiel explained that he was to use his safe word if he found himself in a situation where he needed to stop immediately, without discussion. Once Dean agreed to use it if needed, they moved on.

He found himself watching the man often, just his mannerisms, the way he moved and spoke, his expressions. He couldn’t figure out what it was about the guy that made him unable to control how fast he was developing a bond with him, how quickly he was trusting him. And he could understand why Sam was worried, because he was freaking terrified. And yet it still couldn't stop him.

What was he going to do when this stopped? What would he do when the training was over, and Castiel forgot he even existed? Castiel had quickly become his personal safety net, and when he was gone, Dean would have nothing to help him. Nothing to save him when he fell apart.

“Dean?”

Dean blinked, feeling the weight of hands on his shoulders. He stared into blue eyes as his eyes came back into focus. He realised that he’d been staring at nothing, zoned out while his thoughts started to spiral, and he’d sat there for long enough for Castiel to notice. The man was sitting on Dean’s desk, holding both of his shoulders, and staring at him with concern. But as Dean focused on him, his face changed to a soft smile, and he dropped his hands from Dean’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked lightly, not moving from his seat on top of the desk.

“No.” Dean answered honestly. It was becoming easier to tell Castiel the truth, he noticed.

“Tell me.” Castiel asked.

Dean glanced around the room, not wanting to talk in front of everyone – but he was surprised to find it empty. He glanced at the time and realised the day had been over for ten minutes already. He relaxed somewhat, knowing it was just the two of them, especially since Castiel had closed the door to the room.

“I just don’t want things to change.” When Castiel frowned at him, Dean continued. “This. I feel good now, and safe, but what happens next week? This will stop, and you’ll be gone, and-”

“Dean, breathe. Listen to my breathing.”

Dean immediately stopped and did as he was asked. He listened as Castiel breathed slow and steady, and copied the action. Slowly, his breathing started to come back down, though the tightness in his chest remained. He hadn’t realised he was getting worked up, but Castiel had seen it – and that was exactly what he was afraid of losing, among so many more things to do with this.

“What makes you think I’ll be gone from your life?” Castiel interrupted his thought.

Dean looked up sharply, unsure he had heard that properly. Castiel just smiled slightly at him and tilted his head, waiting for an answer.

“Well you – you’ll move on, right? You won’t be here anymore.”

“Ah. You were not aware that I have taken a contract here for the next six months?”

“You what?” Dean blinked in surprise.

Six months… that meant even if he was to go back to his normal work, Castiel would still be around. Maybe not quite as available, but still here. That knowledge sent warmth through his chest, even though he was still worried that once their day-to-day contact ended, so would everything else.

“Come.” Castiel smiled, slipped off the desk and stepped back. “Let’s take a walk.”

Dean nodded slightly and stood from his seat, grabbing his satchel as he went. He took a step to follow Castiel, but before he could go far he felt himself trip forward unexpectedly – damn shoelace – only to find himself being caught against Castiel’s chest, the man’s arms circling him lightly. He grimaced, mentally kicking himself - _seriously, tripping into the guy's arms? What a cliché_ \- but then he noticed that Castiel hadn't actually moved at all. He lifted his head to see Castiel frozen in place, a shocked look on his face. He wasn’t letting go, despite his obvious surprise, Dean noticed as he stared up at the man.

He watched as Castiel’s eyes flitted over his face. He noticed the way that instead of letting him go, setting him right and continuing on his way, Castiel’s arms tightened around him and drew him closer than was anywhere near appropriate for a professional relationship. He also noticed the way that they were now pressed together, chest to chest, their faces barely an inch apart – and as much as Dean wanted to see how far it would go, he was also terrified of losing what they had already.

“Cas…” 

His voice didn’t come out as steady as he’d meant it to, completely changing it from the warning it was meant to be. Instead, Castiel’s name came out as an invitation, Dean's voice breaking to come out in a breathy whisper that made Castiel’s eyes darken slightly. Dean licked his lips nervously, and the movement drew Castiel’s eyes down to his lips.

The waiting was torture. Dean’s mind couldn’t decide whether he wanted Castiel to just freaking do it already, give in to the temptation and kiss him so Dean could have what he was craving – or whether he wanted the man to stop, back off and put that careful line back between them. He knew what the safer option was, but apparently his brain wasn’t listening to that, because he found himself leaning slightly closer.

He could feel Castiel’s breath on his lips now. It sent shivers down his spine, and part of him wondered if he would be able to survive this much longer. Castiel’s eyes were searching his as the man leaned forward slightly, a movement that seemed almost gravitational, and their lips just barely brushed together with the promise of a kiss – but even that barely-there touch set every nerve in Dean on fire and had him craving so much more.

Then Castiel breathed out a single word, his voice shaking.

“Red.”


	8. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem different, and Dean can't figure out how to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The end of this chapter contains brief suicidal thoughts, albeit minor and not carried out - but if that is a trigger for you, stop reading when Dean goes for a drive.
> 
> Also for those following from the beginning we're nearly at the end of the true story bit and onto the part where I can change the ending soooo... if you have anything you want to see happen feel free to mention it from here on in and I'll see what I can do :)
> 
> Also just a note to say thankyou everyone for reading, following, and commenting. I appreciate everyone's support.

_“Red”_

Dean felt like a bucket of iced water had been dumped on him. Sure, he’d never had experience with safe words, but after all his research on what they meant along with his discussion with Castiel earlier, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

He took a step back instantly, pulling his hands away from the man and effectively breaking Castiel’s hold on him. Once free, he took an extra step away, pushing the chair behind him as he put as much distance between them as he could. He watched as Castiel seemed to fold in on himself and dropped into the nearest seat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so. Dean felt shame flood him, and he could barely look at Castiel even though the man had his eyes shut tight, breathing slow and even as though he was trying to regain control.

_Good job, Dean. You managed to screw something up again,_ He thought to himself with a frown. Yet a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispered; _It’s okay to make mistakes._

“Cas? I’m… I’m so sorry.” Dean started, not sure of what else to say.

Castiel held a hand up, stalling any further conversation, and yet not opening his eyes either. Dean fidgeted – should he stay, or leave? He wasn’t sure what the best option was, so he simply waited, trying to figure it out. Eventually, though, once five minutes had passed, he couldn’t wait anymore. He slowly edged away from the man and toward the door, noting that Castiel didn’t move at all or seem to notice him trying to leave. He felt bad just slipping away silently, though, so he spoke quietly.

“I’m just… I’m gonna go…”

“Don’t.” Castiel spoke, his voice strained in a way Dean hadn’t heard it before. “Please, just give me a moment. Don’t leave.”

Dean nodded slightly and stayed where he was, standing awkwardly by the door. The longer that the silence stretched on, the more Dean’s head swirled with guilt. He knew that Castiel had drawn that line, insisted on distance between them. He obviously didn't want Dean as anything more, but Dean had put them in a situation where Castiel had reacted. He shouldn’t have let this happen, shouldn’t have let himself so close. Now for all appearances Castiel was struggling with something that he shouldn’t have needed to, and Dean blamed himself for it.

What if he lost Castiel over this?

After a few minutes Castiel finally raised his head and dropped his hand, letting out a long breath. He glanced over at Dean, who was comforted to note that his eyes were back to their normal blue shade.

“I apologise, Dean. I should have exercised more caution and control. However, I would prefer not to discuss this any further. May I walk you back to your car?”

There were so many things that Dean didn’t like about that sentence. He knew they should discuss it, but he also knew he had no right to say so. And he wished that Castiel would stop exercising as much caution and control, because what was he so afraid of? Was Dean really that bad that Castiel couldn’t stand the thought of even risking anything more? But why would he seem so conflicted, if he felt nothing for Dean? Maybe he was physically attracted to Dean and was fighting it, because Dean was no good and Castiel knew that. That seemed more likely.

Dean frowned slightly, but nodded at Castiel, lost in thoughts as he left the room and waited for Castiel to lock it. He wasn’t entirely stupid, and despite his self-doubt, what had just happened left no room to deny that Castiel was attracted to him. Cas had been the one to pull him closer, to brush their lips together – but he’d also been the one to stop things.

And yet, he was also the one to place his hand lightly on the small of Dean’s back as they walked down the hallway quietly together. It didn’t last long – he seemed to realise what he was doing and hastily pulled his hand away, but the warmth where his hand had been lasted long enough for Dean to feel conflicted by it, and more confused than before. The only thing he could think of was that he was right - Castiel knew how broken he was and knew that he was no good, so was trying not to get too close.

As they walked, Dean shook the mala beads down off his wrist and ran them through his fingers. He counted each one, and as he counted he took a single measured breath for each bead. It helped to keep him calm and breathing normally, and his mind was relatively quiet on the walk. When they finally stopped at Dean’s car, he turned to look at Castiel and smiled slightly – because Castiel was also using his beads.

“I, uh… This is me.” Dean told Castiel quietly, noticing the way one eyebrow quirked up.

“This car is yours?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, she’s my baby.” Dean chuckled, running his hand lightly over the hood lovingly. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Castiel cracked an amused grin then, probably the first one Dean had seen, and Dean’s heart melted at the sight.

“You call your car baby?” Castiel chuckled softly, and Dean frowned in mock annoyance.

“Hey, you leave baby alone. She’s not just a car, she’s a lady.”

Castiel held his hands up in surrender, but the amused grin lingered for a few more moments. Dean grinned back and he felt the tension since the moment previously starting to dissipate. It wasn’t much, but it gave him hope that he could salvage this.

“I will see you tomorrow?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Dean nodded, finding it odd that he’d asked the question.

Castiel merely nodded, then spent a few moments lingering as though he wasn’t sure what to do now. After a few moments, though, he simply turned and walked away, leaving a confused Dean standing at his car, wondering.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next day had Dean out of sorts. Castiel wasn’t acting any different, really – he still smiled at Dean and told him he’d done good, he kept Dean from spinning into another episode, and he’d gotten Dean to eat lunch and drink some water when he was just going to sit in the room through lunch break. He’d checked on Dean’s hand and adjusted his bandage, and did everything he usually did. But something still felt off.

He couldn’t explain why, but Castiel just _felt_ distant. That something more that was always behind his smiles and his gaze wasn’t there, hidden behind a guard of some sort. Dean tried to draw it out of him with careful questions, but Castiel would just give him a guarded smile and deflect every single time. Eventually Dean stopped trying.

By the end of the day Dean was ready to just crawl into bed and cry. And when Castiel excused the class five minutes early, claiming that he had to attend a meeting, Dean nearly crumbled. Castiel didn’t want to talk to him, all over that one stupid moment. Why hadn’t Dean controlled himself better? Why did he have to go and put them both in that situation?

Dean couldn’t stop thinking as he drove home, his mind running through the millions of ways he could have handled things better. His shoulders were still slumped as he let himself into the apartment, his eyes trained on the ground. Of course, that meant he didn’t get any warning before a body tumbled into him, making him step back into the hallway with his arms full of Charlie.

“Dean! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“What?” Dean frowned at her, then looked up at Sam, who was watching them both from the kitchen.

Sam just shrugged, shooting him a slightly confused expression. Charlie stepped back and glared at him, her hands on her hips. It reminded Dean that she could be incredibly terrifying at times, and he shrunk back, feeling guilty though not sure why.

“What do you mean, what? I saw you leave, Dean. I called out but you ignored me. What’s going on?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry Charles. Guess I didn’t hear you.”

Dean shrugged and walked past her to the kitchen, not meeting either of their eyes. Sam held out a cup of freshly brewed coffee for him though, which made him look up and give him a grateful nod. The look on Sam’s face told him he wasn’t about to get out of this easily, and he sighed and turned back around to face Charlie as she started talking again.

“No kidding you didn’t hear me, but it’s more than that. Come on, dude, you looked like someone ran your dog over or something.” Charlie told him, then she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Is it Castiel? What did he do?”

“No it’s – he didn’t do anything…” Dean trailed off, grimacing as Charlie shot him a disbelieving look. “Fine, yeah, something happened. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Well too bad.” Sam answered this time, and Dean looked back at him with a frown. “You can’t keep bottling this stuff up, Dean. Talk to us. Come on, I’m your brother. And Charlie cares about you. You obviously can’t talk to him about it, so talk to us.”

Dean thought about it quietly for a few minutes as he sipped at the coffee he held. He’d been avoiding talking about shit for years but lately, having been able to talk with Cas about things, he’d gotten used to the idea. And Sam was right, bottling things up was what got him here in the first place.

Finally, decision made, he finished the coffee in a few long gulps. He ignored the looks Sam and Charlie shot him while he grabbed a beer from the fridge and made his way over to the couch, dropping into it heavily. As he opened his beer and took a few gulps, he felt Charlie and Sam sit down either side of him.

“So… you’re gonna talk?” Charlie asked lightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I’ll need a few drinks but yeah.” Dean answered, then stared down at the bottle in his hands.

“Whenever you’re ready, Dean.” Sam told him, and one look at Sam’s face told Dean he was actually serious.

They sat for awhile together quietly. When Dean didn’t immediately start talking, Sam started to talk about how his day was. Charlie seemed to catch on and soon the three were having a light conversation about how the two spent the day at work. Dean didn’t really participate much in the conversation, but Sam and Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

It took until Dean was three beers down and on his fourth before he finally felt ready enough to talk.

“We almost kissed.” Dean finally blurted out.

Sam and Charlie both stopped talking and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I mean… It was an accident, kinda. I should have backed off straight away, I knew he wanted to keep the relationship ‘professional’,” Dean literally used air quotes sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the thought. Their relationship was already crossing the line, maybe not physically, but still. “But I didn’t and I, we almost kissed. And now he’s different.”

“What do you mean it was an accident?” Sam frowned after a moment.

“I mean like, chick flick cliché type accident.” Dean snorted and shook his head. “I tripped, he caught me, we were practically on top of each other and our… our lips brushed.”

“Oh my god.” Charlie breathed, her eyes wide. “That’s so cute!”

“Dean!” Sam admonished at the same time.

Dean ignored Sam, but shot Charlie a glare, and she immediately coughed and hid the smile.

“Sorry. So… what happened?”

“He used – um, he stopped it.” Dean flushed as he almost blurted out that Castiel had used his safe word. Yeah, he was not having that conversation right now. “He didn’t want to discuss it. But then today he was just… Different. And he didn’t wait for our usual afternoon talks, just took off to some meeting.”

“What do you mean he didn’t want to discuss it?” Sam asked, and he looked angry. “Dean, it takes two to tango. He’s also in a position of authority. He has a responsibility to discuss it with you and work things out.”

“No kidding,” Charlie agreed. “That’s weird, though. When I talked to him he really seemed to care about you. Like, care care.”

Dean just shrugged, though he frowned slightly at that. If even Charlie could see what he did, that Castiel really did seem to care more than was warranted for a professional relationship and yet he kept that distance and line between them, then Dean's reasoning about why he was fighting it was probably right. But why wouldn't he just say that? Castiel always seemed so up front with everything, so why was it that his actions were seeming to contradict each other? It didn’t make any sense.

“Well, whether he does or not… Probably better off for him if he doesn’t. Less chance he’ll get swept up in all of this.” Dean gestured to his whole self.

“Dean, I hate it when you say things like that.” Sam frowned. “Seriously. You’re so much more than you think of yourself, and we all just wish you could see it.”

Dean scoffed at that and shook his head before he took a long drink, finishing off the beer in his hand. He had barely put it down before Sam was up to get him another, though he was shaking his head as he went. He frowned slightly, but shrugged it off. Sam was usually the one telling him not to drink so much, not encouraging him. But he supposed his brother was just trying to keep him talking.

“He’s right, Dean.” Charlie told him quietly, and when he scoffed again she shook her head. “No, seriously. You’re a pain in the ass at the best of times, but you’re also pretty awesome. Now I don’t know what’s going on with Castiel, but he does seem to care. Maybe he has his own issues that are stopping him, but you gotta talk to him.”

“Charlie, he said he didn’t want to discuss it. I’m not gonna force him.” Dean told her, even though he wished he could. “So there’s nothing to talk about.”

“So don’t discuss it, duh. Just, I dunno, pull him aside and ask if everything’s okay. See where it goes. What’s the worst that could happen?”

_I could lose him completely._ Dean thought, but he didn’t say anything.

Sam came back with a fresh beer and Dean took it, draining half the bottle in one go as Sam raised a brow. He just shrugged in response, and Sam shook his head, but he was smiling slightly again.

“Look, Dean, you should talk to him. But if it goes wrong, just remember we’re here for you okay? Don’t shut us out. Don’t shut me out.” Sam told him lightly with a pleading expression.

Dean took one look at those damned puppy dog eyes, and nodded to him with a bit of a smile. That seemed to be the end of the conversation, and Sam sat down again, moving onto another, lighter topic. Dean sat between them, his head pleasantly buzzing, and thought that it felt nice to just get it out. Even if talking didn't solve anything, he still felt a little lighter for it.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean spent the next day trying to figure out a way to approach Castiel, but every time he tried, the man would claim he had a meeting or appointment. Dean never argued, because he just couldn’t find it within himself to do so. And so the day slipped by without a chance to talk, and Dean spent the night barely sleeping again, tossing and turning as guilt and blame ran through his head.

Friday rolled around – the final day of training – and Dean knew that, as tired as he was, if he couldn’t confront Castiel today then he would lose him completely. Despite the six month contract, if he couldn’t get Castiel to listen when they spent every day together, there’s no way he was going to be able to achieve it when they were separate.

Finally the day ended, and for once Castiel did not claim a meeting – instead he sat at his desk grading the final papers that had been handed in, and Dean saw his opportunity. He approached the desk nervously, twisting his beads around his fingers. This was his last chance.

“Cas? Can we, uh… Talk?”

When Castiel finally looked up at Dean, his eyes were guarded. He looked over Dean silently, seeming to be making a decision, then finally nodded and gestured to another seat on the opposite side of his desk. Dean sighed softly but nodded as he took the seat, the desk a clear physical barrier between them.

“Look I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You’ve been different and I know it’s my fault so…”

“Dean, please stop.” Castiel sighed and finally stopped fiddling with the papers on the desk, but he didn’t look up. “I told you I didn’t want to discuss it, but I failed to realise how that would affect you, and how you would blame yourself.”

Dean just shrugged slightly, dropping his eyes to the ground.

“What happened was my fault. I should not have allowed us to be in such a vulnerable position, and that is completely on me. I did not mean to make you feel like this. I assure you I am still here for you to talk to, so long as our relationship remains professional.”

“Then…” Dean felt tears prick at his eyes and bit his lip, taking a moment to fight them back before he continued. “Why have you been avoiding me? You barely even look at me now and I know I'm broken but-” He choked off a sob, trying not to break down again.

“Oh, Dean.” Castiel finally looked up, and the guard over his eyes dropped. Finally, Dean could see the man he knew in those eyes, the one who cared. “I’m so sorry. I needed time and space, but-”

“Mr. Novak.”

A new voice coming from the doorway startled both men and they turned to look at who had spoken. Dean recognised Naomi, head of the training and development department, watching Castiel with a faintly disapproving stare. Dean had never liked that woman, ever since he had first been trained in this job and she had threatened to fire him on his second day for ‘not shining his shoes well enough’. Most of the staff hated her too, but there was nothing to be done – she might be a bitch, but she was also the boss’ daughter.

“Ah. Yes, Ms. Alderton?” Castiel asked.

“Come with me, please.” Naomi told him briskly, then turned away.

Dean frowned and looked back at Castiel to see him getting up from his seat. Dean’s shoulders slumped as he realised he had missed his last chance to properly sort this out, and he watched as Castiel made his way to the door. Just before the man left, he turned and looked at Dean, shooting him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Dean. Can we continue this conversation later?”

Dean just nodded woodenly and watched as Castiel left the room, and his life. He knew there would be no later – Castiel was just humouring him, saying what he had to, to get out of the situation. He’d been avoiding Dean for days – why would that suddenly change in the space of two minutes? It hadn’t, Dean was sure. Castiel would probably never speak to him again. Why should he, after all?

He couldn’t stay here, in this room, he realised. This part of his life was over, this training, Castiel, all of it. He got up and headed straight for the car, his feet carrying him automatically through the building. This time he did hear Charlie call after him, but he deliberately ignored her. But as he sat in the seat with the engine rumbling, he realised he couldn’t go home, either. If he went home, Sam would see the state he was in and want to talk. And he just couldn’t, not right now.

His eyes were stinging with tears that he was barely holding back. His heart was racing, his breathing erratic, and he knew he was heading for another episode. Oddly, it seemed slower in coming on than normal – maybe he’d learned to fight it somehow. He was managing, and he could hold it back, but he knew he couldn’t keep it in for long. So, he did what he knew how to do best.

He drove to the store. He kept his head down as he bought a case of beer, barely speaking or making eye contact. A couple of people asked if he was okay, but he just nodded without saying anything and left. He loaded the alcohol back into the car and shot off a text to Sam, telling him he wouldn’t be home, before he turned his phone off and dropped it on the seat beside him.

Then he just drove, for as long as he could.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean cracked another beer, the seventh or eighth he’d had so far. Honestly, he’d lost count by this point, but he knew he was feeling relaxed and certainly a little buzzy. He was sitting on the edge of a multi-level parking lot that he’d found, six levels high. His feet hung over the edge, swinging without a care as he stared down at the long drop. He’d managed to find a spot where the fence surrounding the top level was broken and was sitting on the edge, enjoying the slight rush it brought. He’d already had his episode, dealt with it, and now he was just sitting on an edge getting drunk as hell and knowing how dangerous a position he was in, but not caring.

He really hadn’t driven all that far. He’d gotten about twenty minutes away before he’d needed to pull over, and found the well placed parking lot. He imagined it was busy during the day, but right now it was empty, and he was enjoying the quiet as he stared out over the city. He wondered how many people were out clubbing with friends, having fun, being human. Not him, though.

_You’re never gonna be fixed. You’ll always be broken, and you’ll always screw shit up._

He shook his head with a grimace and downed the rest of his beer, then cracked another one straight away. Sam would kill him if he saw him drinking like this, he thought. He’d managed to stop Dean from becoming a raging alcoholic so far, but here he was, drinking alone to forget about everything.

He chuckled bitterly as he realised; he was turning out just like John, and that thought made him hate himself even more.

“What’s the point?” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. “I’m too stupid to take a hint. Screw up everything I touch. I’m a freakin’ burden to my little brother. No good for anyone.”

His words slurred slightly as he muttered to himself, and he swayed where he sat. Not for the first time, he wondered how long the drop over the edge was, and whether it would be better to just step off the edge, set everyone free so nobody had to worry about him anymore. He took another swig of beer, actually considering it for a moment – then he shook his head.

No way. Sam had already lost their parents, and no matter how much of a piece of broken shit Dean was, if he went too then Sam would be completely alone. He couldn’t do that to him.

“Fuckin’ chickenshit.” Dean scolded himself and shook his head again, went to take a swig of beer but it was empty.

He reached for another one, but none were left beside him. He frowned and realised there was more in the car – yeah, he could get them, maybe sit in the car, play some music. Drink more until he passed out. Sounded like a good idea, if he could actually see properly. He laughed at himself as he brought his feet underneath him and stood shakily, then turned toward the car.

Cold fear flooded through him as he felt his back foot slip on the edge of the platform. He reached out to grab something, anything, to stabilise himself and stop him falling over the edge – but of course there was nothing there, because he had picked the one spot with no barrier. All he could think as he started to fall backwards was how disappointed Sam would be.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


	9. Waking up

Dean felt like he was trying to fight his way out of a dream. The first thing he was aware of was a bunch of voices around him, sounding rushed and commanding. Someone asked what his name was – he tried to answer, but the sound wouldn’t come out. They kept asking, over and over until he slipped back into darkness.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The second time, he was aware that he was hurting. His whole body was in pain and he could hardly move. He cried out, trying to tell someone, trying to figure out what was happening. A familiar face crossed his vision – Sam, maybe – but then he was pushed away, quiet words were spoken about a sedative or something… Then he was slipping back under.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The third time he woke to hushed voices, someone talking around him. The voices were familiar… one of them was quiet, steady, a voice that he usually found comfort in. The other voice was more familiar, but sounded angry. He woke enough to hear a brief snippet of the conversation, even if he didn't really understand it.

“I understand that you don’t wish me to be here. If you could just relay my message when he wakes, I would appreciate it.”

Was that Castiel? Dean tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t do it.

“What the hell, dude? Don’t you think he’s gone through enough?!”

That was Sam. His voice was rising in both volume and anger. Why was Sam angry? Dean tried to say something, anything, to let them know he was there, awake.

“You’re a damn coward. Tell him yourself, I won’t be the bearer of bad news.” Sam hissed.

Finally, finally Dean managed to let out a soft grunt. The voices stopped for a moment. Then someone was by his side, holding his hand, pulling something – a blanket, maybe – over him gently.

“Dean? I’m right here, Dean.” Sam. Sam was holding his hand.

Dean tried to say his name, but all that came out was a soft grunt. Even that much exhausted him and, as much as he tried to fight it, he went back under.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Finally, the fourth time he woke, Dean managed to crack his eyes open. He was disorientated at first, but as his eyes began to adjust, he realised he was in a hospital room. He glanced around, confused. What the hell had happened? He could see an IV drip running into the back of his hand and frowned at it. He hated needles. 

He hated hospitals, too. And the beeping was starting to annoy him. He knew it was his heart monitor, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Finally, he swept his gaze down to his body, noticing a mess of red hair laying on the bed beside his arm. He smiled slightly, because of course Charlie would be here with him. He looked further down his body - his leg below the knee was in a cast, so apparently that was broken. His chest hurt like hell, though he didn't know why, but he imagined he would find out soon enough. Aside from that, though, he felt bruised and wounded, but no other serious pain.

He heard a door open and looked up – only to see Sam entering the room, his eyes wide as saucers as he saw Dean awake.

“Hey Sammy.” Dean croaked and god, his voice sounded rough.

“Dean! Oh my god.”

Sam dropped the drinks he had been holding with a loud noise, which woke Charlie up. She jumped and glared at Sam but at his shocked looked, she turned - she stared at Dean for a few moments in quiet shock, then suddenly chaos erupted.

Sam called for the nurses, Charlie was crying into his shoulder, Sam started crying too – Dean could barely keep up with what was going on and it started to hurt his head, to be honest. Then the nurse came in and asked him fifty million questions, making Dean answer each one and sometimes repeat his answers.

Finally, the nurse – Apparently her name was Jess, which she had made him repeat several times at random – seemed to be satisfied enough with his answers to leave him be. She spoke quietly with Sam for a moment, then put a comforting hand on Sam’s arm before she left the room. The door closed, and it was just Dean, Sam, and Charlie again.

Sam heaved a sigh, then came back to sit on the other side of the hospital bed.

“Hey, guys – Oh, son of a bitch…" Dean grumbled as he tried to speak, but found his throat hurting. "Can I get some water or somethin’?”

Charlie immediately jumped up, then returned in under a minute with a bottle of water. She helped Dean lean forward and held the bottle for him to drink the water, some of it spilling down his chin, though not a lot. He would have held it himself, but Charlie refused to let him. The whole time Sam didn’t speak, his eyes trained on the ground.

When Charlie finished, she set the water bottle down on the table and sat down again. When nobody spoke, Dean cast his gaze to his brother with a slight frown. 

“Sam? What’s-”

But he didn’t get to finish that sentence. Sam looked up at him, and it was then that Dean saw the tears streaming down his face. Sam didn’t look sad, though – he looked angry as all hell.

“Don’t you dare ask me what’s wrong.” Sam bit out. “What the hell, Dean?! You were doing so well, you were talking – you said you wouldn’t shut me out! And then you send me a text that scares me, I try to call, and your phone is off -”

“Sammy, I -” Dean started.

“I’m not finished!” Sam yelled, standing up from the chair angrily. Tears continued to stream down his cheeks, and it killed Dean knowing he caused that. “You turn your phone off, we track you to the store, they tell us you bought a case of beer and took off looking like hell… And then what, you go and jump off a building?! What the hell, Dean?! Do I – Do we, mean nothing to you, that you’d just leave us like that?!”

Sam’s rant finally broke off as he dropped back into the seat, his head in his hands. Dean mulled over what had been said, guilty and sad and confused. Then it finally clicked, exactly what Sam had said.

“Wait… You think I jumped?”

Sam looked up at him, his face a mixture of disbelief and hope. Dean glanced at Charlie, seeing the same expression on her face. Seriously? They both thought he actually jumped? How badly depressed and screwed up must he be for them to immediately think that?

“So you’re saying… you didn’t?” Charlie asked quietly.

“No!” Dean shouted, staring at the both of them for a moment. He sighed, then continued. “Look, I went up there to… To get away, think, you know? I know it was dumb, where I was sitting, but I thought I’d be fine. Don’t get me wrong, I thought about it once but… I changed my mind straight away. I couldn’t do that to you, Sammy.”

Dean’s voice was pleading now. They had to believe him, surely. He could feel himself getting tired again, but no way in hell was he going under this time until they knew the truth.

“So what happened, then?” Sam asked, and Dean clung to the slight hope in his brothers’ voice.

“I got drunk, man. I was just sitting there on the edge, looking at the view, drinking. I went to grab another beer, and I hadn’t brought enough over. So, I got up to go to the car. I was gonna sit in baby, listen to some tunes, drink until I passed out, you know?” Dean frowned as he remembered, realising now how stupid he had been. He should have crawled away from the edge before he stood up. “When I got up and turned around, I slipped… That’s the last thing I remember.”

Silence greeted his words, and he looked at Charlie and Sam, trying to make them understand that he was telling the truth. When a voice finally spoke up, it wasn’t one he recognised.

“Well, that is an interesting tale. Sounds like you had quite the night, young man.”

Three heads turned to the doorway to find a woman standing there, watching them with a curious expression. She seemed to have been listening in on the conversation, and Dean wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. She held a large notebook in her hands, and Dean assumed she was one of the hospital staff or something.

“Ms Moseley. But you can call me Missouri.” The woman answered the unspoken question as she stepped into the room, giving him a gentle smile. “I’ll need to talk to Dean alone, so you two can wait outside if you like. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Charlie and Sam looked at each other with a slight frown, then turned to Dean. Dean glanced at the woman again, then nodded to them. She had a comforting presence, this stranger, so he didn’t feel in any danger.

Sam and Charlie nodded and stood up to take their leave, before Dean remembered something.

“Oh, Sam? Do you know where my beads are?”

Something crossed Sam’s face then, a look of simmering anger, but it was gone before Dean could make any comment.

“I’ll find them.” Sam answered shortly, then stepped out.

Okay, that was weird. Dean frowned, but Charlie just shrugged and followed Sam out the door, leaving him with Missouri. The woman just smiled at him again and made her way over to take Charlie’s seat beside his bed, rummaging in her purse as she did. Finally, she pulled out a small zip-lock bag, and she grinned at Dean mischievously.

“Now, child, I know they said you ain’t allowed anything to eat, but I don’t think chocolate counts now does it?” She asked with a soft laugh as she produced a couple of dark, fudgy brownies.

“Now I know you’re buttering me up for something.” Dean commented, but he didn’t refuse when she passed him one of the brownies.

He bit into the brownie, groaning as the chocolatey taste hit his tongue. They were damn good brownies, that was for sure.

“Yes, well. Let me introduce myself properly. I am Missouri, which you know, however I am also the psychiatrist on this ward, which you didn’t know.”

Dean froze mid-way through the brownie to stare at the woman. This woman was a shrink – which meant the hospital had called her in, and probably wouldn’t let him leave unless she said so. He swallowed his bite of brownie carefully, and cleared his throat.

“Uh. Right. So, what you heard, it was the truth.”

“I believe you, boy.” Missouri answered. “But I don’t think that’s all there is to talk about, do you?”

Dean paused for a moment, thinking about it. She gave him a look that told him she was going to see through any lie he told to get himself out of this. Besides, if he was honest to himself, since he had met Castiel and started sharing things with him, he was starting to see the value of this talking things out stuff. He’d done it with Sam and Charlie and felt better, so what could it hurt to give this a real shot?

“…No Ma’am.”

“Don’t call me Ma’am. It’s Missouri.” The woman told him, but she was grinning.

Dean found himself relaxing somewhat. Her presence was comforting, her grin was infectious, and as he allowed himself to talk about things, he found that she was actually easy to talk to. She seemed to know what he meant even when he didn’t say it right, and she got straight to the point.

He had started off telling her about the most recent events – what had happened to put him on that parking lot roof top, all about Castiel, and then about his relationships with Sam and Charlie. She challenged all of his self-depreciating thoughts in a way that made him actually challenge the truth of them. She made him think about what he was doing to himself, instead of just thinking about how he was affecting the people around him. She talked about his episodes in a way that he didn’t feel any less of a person or judged for experiencing them the way he did.

After awhile he started to struggle to stay awake. When he dozed off for a moment, Missouri decided that he’d had enough for the day. She told him she would come back tomorrow and Dean surprised himself when he agreed readily. He had actually almost enjoyed the session.

Missouri left another brownie beside the bed and told him to get some sleep with a soft pat on his arm and a smile, then she left the room. He heard muffled conversation at the doorway before he slipped back into sleep, exhausted but also calm.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next time Dean woke up, it was to a doctor poking and prodding him. Dean grumbled and tried to move away, but the doctor was persistent, it seemed. Dean finally cracked an eye open to stare blurrily at the doctor who was currently checking out his bare chest.

“You’re not gonna buy me dinner first?” Dean grumbled as a joke.

The doctor chuckled and shook his head, which was the precise moment Sam and Charlie walked back into the room. Sam was carrying a tray of coffee cups, and thank god there were three of them. Dean couldn’t wait to drink coffee again – but the doctor was already frowning, apparently having noticed the same thing.

“He shouldn’t be having coffee just yet.” The doctor said in a disapproving tone.

“Oh, no, that’s for our other friend. He’ll be here later.” Charlie lied smoothly.

“Hm. Well, I’m happy to say you seem to be healing quite well, Mr Winchester. You’re very lucky. That fall could have killed you easily, yet you seem to have escaped with no more than some broken bones and mostly minor wounds. I should think you will be able to go home in a few days, pending the psychiatric report, of course.”

“A few days? Why so long?” Dean frowned.

“Well, we’d just like to make sure that everything is healing fine. Observation, mostly.”

The doctor smiled at him and, with a short goodbye, he left the room. Dean glanced at Charlie, who immediately handed him the third cup of coffee. He took a sip, then groaned aloud, delighted by the perfect cup of coffee.

“You’re a goddess, Charles. Knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“I prefer Queen, and you’re welcome.” Charlie smiled as she handed Sam his coffee and took her seat.

“Oh. I found your things.” Sam commented, handing over a plastic bag.

“Thanks man.”

Dean rummaged through the bag for a few minutes – it held his phone, his notebook, his wallet – It looked like pretty much everything he’d had on him that night was in the bag - and thankfully, his mala beads. He sighed as he slipped them back onto his wrist, the familiar weight comforting. He didn’t miss the look that Sam had on his face though, that simmering anger again, and he frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sam answered quickly, shaking his head. “Oh, I talked to Jody. She said she’ll try to pop in to see you, but don’t worry about work.”

Dean frowned at the quick change in subject. Sam was hiding something, he could tell. He’d always been able to tell when Sam was hiding anything and his brother had long since stopped trying, so he wondered what he was trying to hide now. He was just about to ask when a soft knock came at the door and damnit, he wished he could just have a complete conversation with Sam and Charlie without someone interrupting.

But when he looked up, that thought slid out of his mind.

Castiel had come to see him. He was here, standing at the door of his hospital room, holding… something, a sort of small, flat box in his hands.

Sam and Charlie stood at the same time, drawing Dean’s attention, and Dean was surprised to see that anger back on Sam’s face. Though, he now realised – it was directed at Castiel. Did Sam blame him for Dean being on the roof of the parking lot and hold it against him? Even worse, what had he told Castiel about it?

He stopped his thoughts, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, which seemed to draw Sam’s attention.

“May I come in?” Castiel’s voice came from the doorway.

Sam seemed to be waiting for Dean’s response. He nodded slightly, and Sam sighed and took a step to the side so that Castiel could enter.

“We’ll be outside, Dean.” Sam told him, then herded a confused Charlie out the door.

Castiel stepped around his bed, his eyes raking over Dean as though assessing his injuries. There was an odd look in his eyes, though, Dean noticed. It was an almost haunted look.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean coughed, then regretted it instantly.

His sternum had been broken in three places, according to the doctor, which left a hell of a lot of pain. He winced, then looked back at Castiel. The man had turned around for a moment and was grabbing something, and when he turned back, Dean realised he’d grabbed one of the hospital towels and was rolling it up into a bundle. When he’d finished, he used a piece of tape to secure it, then handed it to Dean.

“Here. Hold this on your chest when you cough or sneeze. It will help.” Castiel told him, then sat down in the chair beside Dean.

He didn’t look directly at Dean – instead, he was looking off to the side, seeming to be thinking about something.

“…Thanks, Cas.” Dean held the towel bundle against his chest as he coughed again, and was surprised to find it did help.

Once his coughing settled, he shifted in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. Castiel helped after a few moments, and he managed to sit up more, able to talk and face Castiel properly. Once he was settled again, Castiel sat back in his seat. After a few moments, the man spoke, though his head was down.

“Did you jump?” Castiel asked quietly.

“No.” Dean answered. “I swear, I didn’t Cas. I slipped, and I fell, cause I was stupid.”

Castiel didn’t answer right away, he simply nodded slightly to acknowledge Dean’s words. Eventually though, he looked up at Dean, and Dean could see the unshed tears shining in his eyes. It set him off kilter, because he’d never seen Castiel anywhere close to upset – yet that haunted look in his eyes was back, and despite the smile that he gave Dean, a tear slipped down his cheek.

“Good. That’s good.” Castiel nodded again, then held out the box he was carrying to Dean. “I got you this. It’s not much, it’s just something that helped me. I hope it helps you too.”

“Thanks, Cas. You didn’t have to bring me anything. Shit, you didn’t even have to come see me.” Dean frowned slightly.

Why had Castiel come? He was constantly pushing the professional line, and yet here he was, visiting Dean in hospital after an accident. That seemed pretty personal. But Dean didn’t ask that, because Castiel was already standing up as though he was about to leave.

“I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you are okay. I can’t stay, I have to go back to work.”

Castiel told him, then seemed to hesitate. After a moment of searching Dean’s eyes, he sighed and leaned forward, to press his lips to Dean’s forehead in a gentle kiss. He lingered slightly longer than could be considered normal, then leaned back to meet Dean’s confused expression. Castiel smiled lightly, another tear slipping free at the same time.

“Get better soon, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t find any words, too shocked by the kiss to form any kind of question. By the time he had come to terms with what happened, Castiel was gone. Sam and Charlie came back into the room moments later and sat in their chairs silently.

Dean didn’t acknowledge them yet. He dropped his eyes to the box in his hands. Castiel hadn’t even waited for him to open it, which was odd. He opened it now, carefully, finding a book inside. Letting go, by David Hawkins. He frowned at the book, then opened the cover.

He noticed the neat handwriting on the first page at the same time as he realised an envelope had also fallen out of the book. He decided to read the handwritten message on the inside cover of the book first.

_Dear Dean,_

_This author was a big help for me when I was struggling._

_I hope you, too, can find some comfort in his words._

_Castiel._

Okay, so that explained the book. Dean smiled slightly, his fingers running over the pages. Castiel was still trying to help him. But then he remembered the envelope. He picked it up and turned it over, about to open it, when Sam’s hand covered his. He looked up, frowning slightly at Sam, who did not look happy at all.

“Dean… If that says what I think it does…” Sam sighed softly, moving his hand away so that Dean could open the envelope when he chose. “I just want you to be prepared. It might… It might not be good.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean paused for a moment, then it clicked. “Whatever’s in here… this is what you’ve been hiding, isn’t it? Is this... I dreamed a conversation between you and Cas, or I thought I did. Was it... real?”

Sam just nodded slightly, a weary expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to say more, but then thought better of it and gestured to the envelope. With shaking hands, Dean returned his attention to it and pulled out a folded piece of paper – a typed letter, it appeared. He started reading, dread curling in his gut as he did.

_Dear Dean,_

_I am sorry to do this in a letter. I have come to realise that our relationship may not be the best idea for you, and may be contributing to the detriment of your health._

_In saying that, I am also wary of becoming entangled. As such, I will no longer be able to remain in contact with you, whether it be at work or not. I understand this may be difficult for you, and I urge you to seek assistance to cope with whatever you are going through, via the correct channels._

_I truly do wish you the best on your journey and advise you to seek the help of the nurses and doctors at the hospital. They will be best placed to help you now._

_Castiel._

“No…” Dean breathed, tears running down his face as he read the letter. “No, he can’t… He can’t mean it…”

“What?” Charlie asked, concerned.

Dean handed her the letter, bringing his hands up to cover the tears that were streaming uncontrollably down his face. He tried to count his breathing, slow it down, but he couldn’t. His chest was tight, too tight, and his throat was closing up. He could feel Sam’s hand on his arm, trying to pull his hand away from his face, but he wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t stop, he knew he was going to have a complete episode, and he didn’t want Sam to watch it. But he couldn’t say a word, because all his focus was on getting enough air and trying to ignore that familiar rushing sound in his ears.

He didn’t know who hit the call button, but within seconds a nurse was beside him, trying to help him calm down while she yelled for someone to page Ms. Moseley. He could hear someone screaming in anguish, and he was briefly confused - until he realised that sound was coming from him. He could hear Sam telling him it was going to be okay, his voice fading away as the darkness took over and pulled him under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Well. So much to say about this chapter.
> 
> So this is where I get to change the outcome. That was the end of the true story bit. So thanks for sticking with me this far, and I hope you stay with me as the boys work through their crap to find their peace. This last part was really, extremely freakin hard to write, so I'm looking forward to moving on, and I'm appreciating the support.
> 
> As for Cas, yea I know he would never just abandon Dean in that cruel way, but in this outcome there is a reason behind it, so keep that in mind and try not to hate him. Too much, anyway.
> 
> And thank you for all the comments! I do read them all and try to reply, and each one makes me smile :) 
> 
> And last, if you are struggling with anything, depression, anxiety, anything like that - there is never any shame in seeing a therapist and you may find you will feel so much better if you do, so just do it, please. It can be hard, it might take awhile, and it can be scary, and that is all okay. Once you find the right combination of therapy and/or medication, you feel like yourself again, and it really is possible to be happy.


	10. Remorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took awhile, had a bit of a block. I'm going to try to get another chapter up tomorrow. :)

“Come on in, Dean. It’s been a bad day again, hasn’t it sugar?”

Missouri held the door open for Dean as he shuffled through it and made his way over to the comfortable couch she had in her room. He reached out for one of the throw pillows she kept there and held it tight to his chest, relaxing into the comforting feeling. He looked up at her and nodded slightly, agreeing with her opening statement.

“Yeah, I thought as much. Let me grab you some brownies.” She told him and went to the little bar fridge in the corner of her office.

Dean glanced around the familiar office, taking in the smells and feel of the place that always put him at ease. Missouri didn’t come back straight away, and he knew she was letting him settle in, letting him take those few moments that he needed. He’d been seeing her every week for three months now, and she’d gotten used to his habits quickly.

Even after the hospital had released him, he’d chosen to keep seeing Missouri. As much as he had put up a fight before, he’d realised that talking about this stuff really was helpful. And Missouri just had a way of making him feel comfortable, making him feel as though he was talking to a friend, not a shrink.

“Alright, here we go.” Missouri was back, and she placed a plate of brownies on the little coffee table. “Dig in, and you can tell me about your day. I see you got that boot on finally.”

Dean smiled slightly and nodded, lifting his leg to show her as he grabbed a brownie from the plate. He’d finally been allowed to have the cast removed the week before and was now wearing a CAM boot. He’d gotten rid of the crutches as soon as he was free of the cast, and he loved that he could finally walk again – and drive.

“Yeah. S’good.” Dean mumbled through a mouthful of brownie. When Missouri shot him a disapproving look, he quickly swallowed before continuing. “Took baby for a drive on the weekend. That was nice.”

“I imagine it would have been. It’s been a long time since you drove that car of yours.” Missouri smiled at him. “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened today? I know when you’re stalling.”

Dean sighed and nodded, putting his brownie down. There was no use trying to avoid things around Missouri, he had learned that fairly quickly. She’d dragged some of his darkest moments out of him, carefully and patiently, but with her no nonsense attitude.

“It was, uh… Normal, this morning. Got up, took my meds, went to work. Most of the day went fine, just the usual dicks on the phone whining over shit I can’t change.” Dean stopped there, taking a moment to breathe slowly.

“Then what happened?” Missouri prompted gently, catching his eye.

“I, uh… I saw Cas. Again.” Dean frowned. “He looked like he was gonna come over to my desk this time. But… Well, Jody stopped him.”

“Hmm. How many times is this now?” Missouri asked him.

“Thirteen. Thirteen times he’s been close enough to hear or see, but the first time he actually approached.”

“Maybe he wants to talk about what happened?” Missouri shrugged her shoulders lightly, but Dean was already shaking his head.

“No. No, I can’t. He hurt me, and I tried to talk to him, and he shut me out. Why is he doing this now? Why not when I needed him?”

“Oh, sugar, you know I can’t answer that.” Missouri told him with a sad look. “But what if he _is_ tryin to talk to you? What if he’s trying to make up for what happened? What would you do then?”

Dean didn’t have an answer for that.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Dean groaned as he got out of the impala. His leg was hurting, but he’d been warned to expect that. Even with the moon boot, he hadn’t put weight on it for a long time, so it was going to be sore. He grumbled under his breath as he turned to lock baby, not exactly looking forward to the rest of the day on phones. Well, at least it was Friday, which was a bonus. Almost the weekend.

“Dean.”

_Son of a bitch. Not here, not now._

“Don’t, Cas.”

Dean paused, one hand on the roof of the impala as he stared at baby, trying to ignore the presence that he felt behind him. He’d just gotten to work, barely made it through his morning coffee, and forgotten his pills. And now here was Castiel, catching him alone in the parking lot, making his heart drop and bringing the pain back.

“Dean, please. I just want to talk.”

“Talk?!” Dean swung around, tears stinging his eyes as a deep anger reared up to replace that pain in his chest. “What exactly do you want to ‘talk’ about, Cas?! How you left me when I needed you most?! How you lied to me when you told me I wasn’t alone?! How you ignored every one of my calls and texts begging you to just tell me why, tell me what I did wrong?! Come on, Cas, tell me, cause I’m drawing a blank here. What exactly do you want to ‘talk’ about?”

Castiel took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise. Dean himself was floored by the dripping venom in his voice, but he also couldn’t help but notice how the man looked – his eyes were dull, and the deep circles under them matched Dean’s own. He looked… thin, unwell. For a moment, just a moment, Dean let him feel his worry for the man – but he quickly shoved that down, refusing to care again.

He’d been so afraid that he would hurt Castiel, and in the end, he’d been the one laying in his bed with his heart broken for months until he could function like a normal human being again. It still hadn’t healed, and part of him felt like it never would.

“I just… felt like you should know that… This wasn’t my choice, Dean.”

“I’m sorry, what? Not your choice?” Dean laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “What, did someone else write that letter? Someone else reject my calls?”

“…No.”

“Well come on, then.” Dean drawled sarcastically, leaning back against his car. “Please, explain it to me. Because, I know damn well I wasn’t the only one crossing lines back then. You cut me off, made me feel like it was all my fault, and I accepted that. But then I worked through it, and I realised it wasn’t me at all. You accepted me when I was broken, you helped me, you promised you’d be there. Then you weren’t. So please, tell me how it wasn’t your choice.”

“Dean, there is more to this than you can know. I know I hurt you, and I… I can never make that up, or tell you how sorry I am. But this? Us? It was, and still is, dangerous.” Castiel huffed a breath out and shook his head, and Dean was sure he could see a shine of tears. “This wasn’t what I wanted. I was… advised, that if I continued this path with you, I may be terminated from my position.”

Dean had nothing to say to that, shocked into silence. If what Castiel was saying was true, that meant that upper management had stepped in and threatened his job. Dean frowned as he wondered – then he remembered the last time that he had tried to talk to Castiel and been interrupted.

_Naomi._

“I thought that if you were angry with me, I could stay away from you. I tried, Dean. But I just can’t. I feel… drawn to you, in a way I don’t understand.”

“And at what point do you grow a set and make your own damn decisions?” A new voice came from the other side of the impala.

Dean turned his head, surprised to see Uncle Bobby making his way over to stand at Dean’s side. Judging by the look on Bobby’s face, he wasn’t impressed by Castiel’s explanation.

“You and I have talked a bit, boy, and I get it. I understand what you’re goin’ through, and how hard it might be. But the point I stop understanding is when you hurt my son. So, I’m gonna ask you again; at what point do you grow some balls?”

Dean blinked in surprise, looking at Bobby as he registered the use of the word ‘son’. Bobby had always treated him like one, but never actually called him that. It sent a warmth through his chest, comforting him somehow, despite the conflicting emotions running through him.

“I…” Castiel stopped, a confused look appearing on his face.

Dean sighed softly at the lack of a proper response, dropping his head as the anger drained out of him. He leaned on Bobby, accepting the support the older man immediately offered him. He was emotionally and physically drained, and right now he would take any support he could get.

“I can’t do this, Cas.” Dean’s voice broke as the tears he’d been fighting finally streamed down his face.

“Dean, I can explain-”

“No.” Bobby cut in, protectively pulling Dean tighter to his side as he turned away. “You’ve done enough.”

Dean followed along with Bobby as the man supported him to the elevators. As they stood there and waited for the elevator to arrive, he couldn’t help looking back at Cas – and somehow, despite the pain, despite the anger, despite everything – when he saw the broken, lost look on Castiel’s face, it broke him just that little bit more.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  


  
The end of the workday found Dean sitting in a booth at the café, sipping at the coffee Jo kept topping up for him and poking at the toast Ellen had brought him. Ellen herself was sitting across the table from him, a pile of financial papers spread out on the table before her. She’d been quiet for the most part, letting him take his time but obviously wanting him to talk about what had happened during the day.

He’d had a half decent day, the incident with Castiel aside. He’d taken calls and for the most part, the people he spoke to had simple problems that were solved quickly and easily. Still, he couldn’t get Castiel out of his mind all day. He was confused, hurt and frustrated, and he couldn’t figure out whether he should keep avoiding Castiel or not – he knew he should, but a big part of him didn’t want to.

“Dean, come on back to earth now.” Ellen’s voice was amused, and it snapped Dean back out of his thoughts to find her watching him across the table. “Thinking pretty hard there.”

“Yeah. Bobby tell you about this morning?” Dean asked, then continued when Ellen nodded slightly. “I can’t get him out of my head, ma. I just… what if there is a reason? And a good one?”

“Well, it’d have to be a damn good reason to excuse what he did.” Ellen frowned, then she sighed softly and leaned forward on her elbows. “Look. Things between your Uncle Bobby and I, they ain’t always been easy. Your uncle is one stubborn mule of a man, and I ain’t much better. We’ve been head-to-head more times than I can count, and there’s more than once that one of us has been ready to walk. There was once that I did.”

“But… you and Bobby love each other.” Dean frowned, surprised. Sure, he’d seen them banter, but he never realised they actually fought, and he wasn’t sure what to think of that information. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Do you love him?” Ellen asked bluntly.

Dean paused with a frown as he thought about the unexpected question. Did he? He wasn’t sure, really. He knew he felt a lot for Castiel and had felt drawn to him from the moment they met. He knew that a smile from Cas had always made his day better, and the man could bring out things in him he’d long forgotten. And he knew that as much as it hurt to lose Castiel, and as angry as he was – he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life without him. He looked back at Ellen and sighed.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard of you considering the idea of love, so I’d bet there’s a good chance you do.” Ellen smiled. “If you do, then the rest can work itself out. I say hear him out. See what he has to say, then you can decide if you’re willing to work on things. And, if he hurts you again, I’ll be the first to castrate him.”

Dean laughed softly, not doubting that she would do exactly that, and shook his head. After a few moments of thinking about what she had said he nodded slightly, his decision made. He shuffled out of the booth and stood, shooting her a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Ma. I gotta go.”

“You go get your man, Dean. And don’t let him screw it up.” Ellen told him as she walked beside him, then held the café door open for him. “I’d be willing to bet he’s at that bench along the stream right about now.”

Dean nodded to her and left, promising briefly to let her know how things worked out. As he left the café he followed the path they had taken what seemed like forever ago, when Castiel had invited him for breakfast. Limping along the path, he let his thoughts drift.

He remembered when he had first broken down in front of Castiel. The man had refused to let him run, he’d kept Dean there and helped him. He’d cared. Then he’d taken notice of the things Dean responded to, tried to do them more often and approached him with ideas to help him. And then, what Castiel had said earlier – the man had kept a strict line between them, but he’d said that he was drawn to Dean. Had keeping that line between them been more about keeping his job safe than anything else?

He blinked as he saw he was in view of the bench now, not realising how far he’d come while his thoughts had drifted. And Ellen was right – in the fading light he could just see Castiel sitting on the bench, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face resting in his hands. He approached slowly, not wanting to alert the man to his presence just yet.

What was he going to say? He was here but, where should he even start with this?

As it turned out, he didn’t need to say anything. As he approached, he must have kicked a rock or something, sending it skittering noisily along the path. Castiel started and lifted his head quickly, then looked straight at Dean.

“…Dean?”

“Uh… hey.” Dean mumbled, looking down for a moment. “Can I… can I sit?”

“Yes, of course. Please.” Castiel seemed to relax slightly and gestured to the seat beside him.

Dean made his way over gingerly, and carefully sat next to Castiel, keeping a slight distance between them. He looked down as he wiped his palms on his pants nervously, trying to think of something to say. The silence stretched out, until finally Castiel spoke.

“I quit today.”

“You… what? Why?” Dean looked up with a frown.

“I quit. What your father said, it made sense. So,” Castiel shrugged slightly, not looking at Dean. “I told management I would either be allowed to make my own decisions or quit. They chose to accept my resignation.”

“…I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean looked down again, feeling guilty, but also shocked that Castiel had quit over him and what had happened.

“Don’t be.” Castiel sighed and sat up straight, turning to look at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean. I am truly so sorry. I never should have done what I did to you over a job. I… you should know that it’s more than just a job, I have responsibilities, and I was afraid that without this I would not be able to take care of my responsibilities. But I let that fear make me a coward, and I let it hurt you. I can never apologise enough for what I did.”

Dean looked up once more, only to see tears running down Castiel’s cheeks. He reached out carefully, and slowly placed his hand on Castiel’s cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Castiel sighed and pressed his face into Dean’s hand, sending a warmth through Dean for a moment – but he pulled away, trying not to notice the sad look in Castiel’s eyes when he did.

“I want to trust you, Cas. I get that you’re sorry, but…” Dean huffed out a breath and shook his head, looking away for a moment. “You have no idea… It freakin’ killed me when you just left like that and ignored me. I needed you, and you just left. You told me in a damn letter, man. I get why, I do… And I appreciate that you quit, but… It just hurt. Still does. And I don’t know if I’m ready to trust you again.”

“I understand, Dean. I don’t expect you to trust me, after what I did.” Castiel’s voice shook, and Dean glanced back to him, biting his lip so that he didn’t start tearing up too. “Do you think you might be willing to give me a chance to earn your trust again?”

Dean searched Castiel’s eyes for a moment, considering. He thought back to what Ellen had said in the café earlier, and wondered if he was willing to try to work on things with Castiel. As he stared into those sad, haunted eyes, he realised that yeah, he was. He was willing to risk it all going to hell because this man right here, Castiel, meant the world to him and had since the moment they’d met.

Finally, he crooked a half smile and sat up straight, holding his hand out to Castiel.

“Hey, I’m Dean. Do you want to grab breakfast with me in that café tomorrow?”

Castiel blinked owlishly at him for a few moments before he seemed to catch on to what Dean was trying to do, and he gave him a watery smile as he reached out and shook Dean’s hand.

“Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel, and I would love to have breakfast with you tomorrow.”


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it's been a long week - as you can see by the title of the chapter that I couldn't even think of.  
> Sorry to keep you all waiting, please don't leave me! I'm almost done on the next chapter so will get that out as soon as possible, hopefully mid week!  
> Quick note, I now have a beta for this - Huge thankyou to cas_s_honeybee!

“Sammy, I’m home!” Dean yelled as he swung the door of the apartment closed and dropped his keys into the bowl.

Dean smiled slightly,  pausing for a moment to listen to the sounds of laughter and talking as well as noise from the TV. He followed the noise t hrough the apartment until he found Sam and Charlie sitting on the couch, laughing as they played some racing game on the  PlayStation . He stood and watched them for a moment, leaning against the kitchen counter quietly.

He was glad that Charlie and Sam had always gotten along so well. She’d pretty much stuck to him since the day they’d met, and quickly become like a kid sister to Dean and eventually, Sam too. It really was amazing just how much family he and Sam had found here.

“No way! How do you always win?” Sam laughed, shoving Charlie.

“Not my fault you suc k.” Charlie laughed, then stood and turned toward the kitchen , which is when she saw Dean. “Dean! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, well that’s  ‘ cause you were too busy kicking this giant’s butt.” Dean laughed as Charlie threw her arms around him in a hug. “Hey kid.”

“Where have you been? It’s after nine.” Sam stood from the couch and looked at Dean with a frown.

“ Sorry Dad, I’ll leave a note next time.” Dean  snarked back , then moved over to sit on the armchair beside the couch.

“Dean I’m serious, I was worried.” Sam frowned,  sitting back down as Charlie came back with three beers. “You said you’d be home after a coffee, then you weren’t back for hours.”

Charlie offered one of the beers to Dean and he took it with a  quiet thanks, popping the cap and taking a sip before he put it down on the coffee table. He sighed softly, then lifted his eyes from the table to look at Sam first, then Charlie. He knew he had to tell them the truth , but he wasn’t sure how they were going to react.

“…I was with Cas.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up in response to his statement, while Sam’s face  darkened with evident  surprise and disapproval . Silence greeted his words for a few moments,  but Dean wasn’t stupid. He knew it was the calm before the storm and, sure enough, Sam started first .

“What the fuck, Dean?!” His brother’s voice rose in anger as he stared at Dean. “We’ve been keeping him away from you for months, and the first chance you get you go running back to him? After what he did?”

“Hang on a second,” Dean snapped as he stood angrily. “ I get that you’re not happy, but I’m not a kid, Sammy! I’m still the big brother here and I can damn well make my own decisions without you dragging me through the fire over it!”

“No, Dean, you’re not a kid, which is why I don’t get it!  You’re smarter than this! And  yeah , I damn well get to drag you through the fire after what you’ve-”

“What, Sam?” Dean growled, starting to lose his cool completely. “What I’ve done? Is that what you were gonna say? ”

“No, what you’ve been through!” Sam snapped, then sunk back onto the couch, his head in his hands.

“ Guys, come on…”  Charlie stared between the brothers, seeming unsure of what else to say. 

Dean just sat, refusing to say anything more or even look at Sam. He’d expected questions, sure, but he hadn’t expected Sam to get so angry at him over this.  He’d come home feeling happier than he had in months, and now he was just irritated and down again.

“ Dean, I almost lost you. You have no idea how many times I wondered if you’d just  end  it, if the depression would win. Five years, I’ve been trying to help you, support you, look after you just like you did for me all those years when we were kids .  Now y ou’re finally getting better, and…” Sam looked up at him then, and Dean was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Dean grabbed his beer and took another mouthful, then put it down on the table, staring at his feet pretty much the whole time. He hadn’t thought much about what Sam was going through, watching his self-destructive path. It hurt to hear it coming from  Sam, but he was also glad his brother had told the truth – and stopped yelling.

“I … I’m sorry, Sammy. For everything. You shouldn’t have had to look after me or worry like that. I should have got into therapy sooner.”

Sam sat back into the couch, sighing softly as he held his beer in two hands. He kept his eyes trained on the bottle, not looking at Dean as he spoke with a sad tone.

“Yeah, you should. But what matters is that you are now, and you’re  being  _ you _ again.” 

“Okay ladies, this is  sweet and all, but isn’t there something to discuss here?” Charlie asked, her eyes moving between Dean and Sam. Both brothers gave her confused looks, and she rolled her eyes with a huff. “Cas, Dean. What happened? Did he corner you again, cause if he did I  swear-”

“No, no Charlie ,” Dean stopped her, shaking his head. “I  mean, kind of. This morning he caught me in the parking lot, and I yelled at him a lot. But I kept thinking about what he said, so after work I went to talk to  Ellen.” 

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you saw him this morning.” Sam frowned, looking hurt that Dean hadn’t told him.

“I didn’t get a chance. Bobby came in and broke it up, then it was time for work.” Dean sighed and shook his head, remembering back to the conversation. “I said some stuff, he said some stuff.  Basically h e was threatened by management to break things off, and he admitted he made a mistake.”

“A mistake? Seriously?” Charlie shook her head and blew out a breath. “I mean, I get having management on your ass is bad, but he should have  grown a set and at least told you the truth straight up, in person.”

“Yeah, Bobby said pretty much the same thing.” Dean grinned slightly, remembering Bobby’s words,  and when he had called Dean his son. It warmed his chest, but he didn’t mention it. “Anyway, when I went to talk to Ma about it, she basically told me to do what I felt was right. So, I did.”

“I’m going to ignore the right or wrong of it for now,” Sam  frowned again, looking at Dean. “And I’m going to have words with Ellen. But what did he have to say for himself?”

“Dude she’ll kick your ass, don’t mess with that.” Dean  snorted and finished off his beer. “He, uh… He quit. ”

“He… What?” Sam asked in surprise, while Charlie let out a quiet  _ ‘ _ _ Eep _ _!’ _

“He quit.” Dean repeated, feeling giddy just in relaying the fact that Castiel had quit his job  _ for him. _ “ On the spot. He isn’t working there anymore,  even though he said he had responsibilities to take care of.  Told them either he could make his own  decisions, or he would quit. And he also… he gets how much he messed up, and he wants to earn my trust again. I’m not stupid, I told him it wouldn’t be easy, but he wants to try. So, we’re kind of… starting over, I guess.”

Charlie squealed and wrapped her arms around him happily, making Dean laugh at her sudden change of heart and excitement. Sam, however,  wasn’t looking at him, a thoughtful frown on his face.  Dean sighed to himself, wondering how long it would take for his brother to come around.

“Look, Sam, I know you hate the guy-”

“It’s not that.” Sam frowned, holding up a hand for silence while he thought. Eventually, he looked back at Dean. “I don’t like him at all. But this thing with management… Dean, I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned slightly. “ What’s not allowed, Cas having friends?”

“No, no.” Sam shook his head, tapping on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I don’t think they’re allowed to dictate what kind of relationships an employee can have, and more so being that Castiel was under a contract. I’ll have to  look into the regulations and handbook, but…  Dean, this could land Alderton’s in some serious trouble. I mean, court level trouble.”

Dean sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide.  Yeah , he’d realised it probably wasn’t allowed, the way they were treating Castiel. He knew it wasn’t fair that Cas had to quit over this. But he also knew that when Sam said court level trouble… He might have to put in a statement,  come clean about everything that had happened over time. It scared him, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it, but… This was unfair. How many people had they done this to? How  many people could they continue to  manipulate, if they were left unchecked?

He thought about it, wondered if he could handle the scrutiny. But for the idea of stopping them from manipulating people? Decision made, Dean nodded slightly, looking up at his brother.

“Yeah.  Yeah , do it. Look into it. I got your back, Sammy. ”

“Okay, I’m not eleven anymore, Dean. Quit with the ‘Sammy’,” Sam grumbled, but Dean could see the quirk in his lips that betrayed the hidden smile.

“Uh… question?” Charlie raised her hand, looking sheepish. “Does this mean I should probably unfreeze Castiel’s bank accounts now?”

Dean choked on the last mouthful of beer he had taken, then stared at Charlie with shock. She shot him a sheepish expression again, shrugging her  shoulders a little. He beat his chest with one fist, trying to clear the liquid from his throat.

“You actually froze his accounts?!”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“So,  how was your night?” 

Dean asked moodily as he stabbed at the scrambled eggs sitting on his plate . He’d known that having breakfast with Castiel this morning was going to be different, they were starting over – but he hadn’t expected the man to be so distant toward him. Castiel had skilfully avoided any of the casual affections Dean had tried to show, and it was getting to him a bit.

“It was… okay.” Castiel answered quietly. “I had some explaining to do, but it’s taken care of now.”

“…explaining?” Dean asked worriedly.

Was Castiel already in a relationship? Was he coming home with lies to tell his partner, just so that he could keep seeing Dean? As much as Dean was drawn to the man, that’s where it could stop. He wasn’t prepared to be a side fling, not for anyone. He could feel the dread curl inside of him at the thought of telling Castiel he couldn’t see him anymore,  especially after everything they’d been through so far.

“Dean, breathe with me.” Castiel’s voice was low, commanding.

Dean did as he was asked, slowly taking a breath in, then a breath out as he copied Castiel’s breathing just like he used to do . He hadn’t even noticed his breathing  speeding up , because to be  honest it was barely noticeable. Yet Castiel did notice  it and had  instantly  managed to create a path for Dean to calm down. 

“Good. You’re so much better at this now.” Castiel commented quietly with a soft smile .

“Yeah. I’ve been in therapy.” Dean smiled slightly, glancing up at Castiel then away as he picked at his eggs. “ It’s been good for me , you know. But anyway. What do you mean, explaining? ”

“Oh. I suppose it never came up in conversation.” Castiel frowned slightly as though he was thinking about it, then shrugged slightly.  “I had to explain  to my daughter why I wouldn’t be going to work anymore.”

_ Wait… What?! _ __

Dean thought, shocked into silence for a few moments. There were probably a hundred different things Dean had imagined Castiel would say, and this wasn’t even close to  any of those things. Castiel had a kid at home, and here he was doing whatever it was they were doing…

“You… She… You’ve got a kid?” Dean finally managed to stutter out in shock.

“Will that be a problem?” Castiel frowned as he looked at Dean, catching him  with one of those looks that seemed to stare straight into his heart. “ I didn’t think it would  bother you much, I apologise if I was wrong.”

“No, no.” Dean held up his hands in a gesture for the man to just  _ wait. _ “ I mean,  yeah it’s a shock, and I’m probably not the best person with kids . Not that, I mean, you probably don’t want me around her so  yeah … I mean, I’m guessing past relationship, but it’s over now, right?”

Dean was babbling out of nervousness and he knew it, but he didn’t expect the quiet chuckle from Castiel.  Dean shot the man an irritated glare, but Castiel just smiled at him and shook his head, for the first time reaching out across the table to take Dean’s hand gently, comfortingly.

“I’m sorry, I should have explained better. Claire is my daughter, but not biologically. ” When Dean frowned slightly, confused, Castiel sighed softly. “Claire is actually my niece. My brothers’ daughter.  She lost her parents at a young age, so I  have been looking after her ever since.”

“Oh.”

Dean let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding, staring down at Castiel’s hand resting over his. The  knowledge he’d gained over just a few moments was overwhelming, to say the least, and it took him a few moments of quiet staring to process it.

“For the record, I don’t have any issues with introducing you to her.  I don’t see why you would be anything less than wonderful with children. But that’s something we can discuss l ater. ” Castiel told him quietly.

Dean’s chest warmed slightly at the idea that Castiel would trust him to be around his kid. 

“How old is she?” Dean found he was genuinely interested to learn more about Castiel and his family.

“She’ll be six soon.  I suppose I’ll need to get her a cake for school.” Castiel grimaced as he said it, as though the thought of cake horrified him.

“Yeah, that and a party .” Dean chuckled, then stopped at the frown on Castiel’s face.

“…A party? She’s six, Dean.”

Castiel retorted sarcastically, though  when Dean shot him an incredulous look,  confusion showed itself on his face. Dean looked him over for a moment, but he soon realised the confusion was genuine . Dean had to admit right now, Castiel looked  absolutely adorable .

“Are you freakin kidding me right now Cas?” Dean stared at the man,  then laughed softly .  “Dude, has she ever had a birthday party?”

“Um. Does a cake with my other brother and I count?” Castiel asked.

“…No, Cas. No , it does not.” Dean shook his head and laughed again. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll help you organise a party. I used to do it for Sammy, so I’ve got a decent enough idea of what  makes a fun party.”

Castiel shot him a soft, grateful smile, then went back to sipping at his coffee. Dean stared at him for a few more moments, wondering how this man could be so many different things at once – commanding, caring, compassionate, adorable… He really was too good to be true.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Dean got home, he still had a smile on his face. He and Castiel had spent a fair amount of the morning just talking and sipping coffee once they’d finished breakfast. Castiel had an opportunity for work that he was going to  look into on Monday, and Dean told him about Sam’s idea to look into whether what Alderton’s had done was actually legal.

That had taken some convincing, but eventually Castiel agreed that if it started a fight, he would stand with them.  It warmed Dean to know that Castiel was willing to fight for the right thing, even though it was too late for his job.

“Sammy, I’m home!” Dean called out his usual greeting as he walked into the kitchen.

“Dean, thank god.” Sam called back , and Dean frowned slightly as he watched his brother come out of the bedroom. “I can’t get this thing right.”

“What are you wearing?” Dean frowned, looking at Sam.

He was wearing a dark pair of  jeans that looked like they’d  never been worn , and a light blue button  up. His hair was done nicely, his boots were polished, and he was currently fiddling with what appeared to be a tie.

“I’m going out for a… well, a date.” Sam mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Would you just help me with this?” He gestured to the tie impatiently.

“Dude, no.” 

Dean shook his head and walked over to Sam with a sigh. Seriously, he thought he had taught Sam better than this – he tugged the tie off and threw it on the couch, ignoring Sam’s protests. Then he went for the shirt buttons, popping the first two open before he stepped back.

“There. Always leave two buttons, man. And you don’t wear a tie to a date unless it’s  your wedding.”

Sam rolled his  eyes, but smiled fondly at Dean before grabbing his phone and wallet from the bench. He turned toward the front  door but Dean raised an eyebrow, blocking the way with his arms folded.

“So, who’s this mystery date?” Dean asked .

“Aw come on Dean, I’m gonna be late.” Sam complained, but Dean didn’t move. Finally, Sam sighed and quirked a slight smile. “Fine. Uh… You remember that nurse from the hospital? Jess?”

“…Yes?” Dean grinned. “Dude, I told you she was  flirting and you didn’t believe me!”

“Yeah,  yeah . Well, turns out she was. And, uh… We’ve been talking, and she asked me out.”

“Awesome.” 

Dean grinned, clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder as he stepped aside. Before he let Sam leave, though, he fished the car keys from the little bowl by the door and held them up to Sam. Sam just stared at him in shock, reaching out slowly to take the keys.

“Seriously? You’re gonna let me take your Baby?” Sam checked, still appearing shocked.

“Yeah. Go get your girl, man.” Dean  grinned, and huffed as Sam crashed into him in a hug. “ Okay  okay , get off. And don’t scratch her or you’ll pay!”

“I love you too, Jerk!” Sam called back as he took off out the door.

“Bitch!” Dean yelled down the hall before he closed the door and grinned to himself.

Yeah , it was good to feel like himself again.


	12. Revelation

Weeks passed, and Dean found himself falling into a comfortable routine. He and Castiel texted almost daily, though no mention was made of reinstating their previous arrangement. That in itself frustrated Dean to no end, but he also didn’t want to bring it up just in case Castiel rejected the idea.

They continued to have breakfast on Saturday mornings in the café, avoiding Jo’s bad attitude and Ellen’s eagle eyes. They met for coffee on Wednesdays at Trickster’s treats, which was when Castiel had introduced him to his younger brother. That was an interesting meeting – the man had almost convinced Dean to try a nice, sweet looking donut, until Castiel had informed him the sweet looking creation was actually  sa vory .

After the annoyance wore off, Dean had to admit the whole idea was amazing. Gabriel created all the treats in his shop himself, but they never tasted like what they looked like. There was the donut, which was actually an amazing breakfast snack that tasted just like biscuits and gravy. Then there was what looked to be a simple pizza  roll , but was actually a sweet, almost pie-style cherry treat.

Gabriel was a good guy, if a little over the top with his antics – at least, that’s what Dean had thought until Gabriel had managed to talk to him alone. That brief encounter was when he’d threatened that if Dean did anything that might have a chance of turning Castiel into the ‘mess he was before’, Gabriel would castrate him  with a pastry cutter.

Then there was Sam – he continued to date Jess, eventually getting to the ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’ stage, which Dean and Charlie teased him about incessantly. Naturally, Jess had told him that’s what they were after a stammered question from Sam.

Dean found himself in a happy place, except for one thing – aside from the occasional brush of his fingers across Dean’s back, or a gentle touch on his hand, Castiel hadn’t let them become anything more than friends. It frustrated Dean to no end, especially since he was starting to trust Castiel again, every time that he kept his word and followed through building on that trust.

Maybe, he wondered, now that the novelty of being work acquaintances had worn off, Castiel wasn’t interested anymore. It hurt, but he didn’t let it stop him from keeping up a growing friendship with the man. At least having him as a friend was better than not having him at all, Dean figured.

As it turned out, today he was meeting up with Castiel to take him shopping for Claire’s party. He’d finally got Castiel to understand why it was so important, after sharing the one birthday party he remembered his Mom organising, and sharing details about how happy Sammy was at his parties. Ever since then, Castiel had been an active participant in the organisation, even going so far as to send ‘save the date’ notices to all Claire’s school friends.

Dean sighed as he checked his watch again. Cas should have been there by now – they'd planned to meet at 9:30. It wasn’t far past, but it was unlike Castiel to be late – he was almost always ridiculously early to anything. Finally, Dean pulled out his phone to send off a text.

**_ Dean 09:39: ‘Dude where are you, seriously.’ _ **

**_ Cas 09:48: ‘I will be there soon. The car would not work, so Gabriel is bringing me.’ _ **

Dean chuckled at the response and shook his head, typing back a quick reply.

**_ Dean 09:50: ‘Yeah, it probably finally gave up. Told you it’s ready to be turned into tin cans.’ _ **

**_ Cas 09:51: ‘Very funny Dean. It’s yet another expense I can’t afford right now.’ _ **

Dean frowned, a bit of guilt shooting through him. As it had turned out, the opportunity Castiel had mentioned was in a library at the local high school. It wasn’t a glamourous job, and it didn’t pay as well as his last job – but Cas had assured Dean that he was happier, and he would be able to work his way back into a teaching position when something became available. Dean still felt responsible though, for the fact that Cas had to give up his position and was now having to worry about making ends meet.

He was about to type a reply when he saw Gabriel’s bright red sports car pull into the parking lot, and he had to roll his eyes. He could swear the younger Novak bought that thing just to annoy Castiel.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel smiled softly at him as he got out of the vehicle. “I apologise for being late. Let me just say goodbye.”

“Yeah, no worries man.” Dean nodded slightly.

He watched as Castiel opened the back door and leaned in to say goodbye to the little girl sitting in the back seat. He had never met Claire, but he could tell by the way Castiel smothered her in kisses and cuddles that this was her. She was cute, all pink cheeks and smiles and blonde curls. He heard her giggle, and the sound melted his heart a little bit.

Yeah, okay. He was a big softie for kids.

Finally, Castiel said goodbye and closed the door, waving as Gabriel drove away. Then he turned to Dean and smiled softly.

“Thank you for waiting for me. Should we go in?”

“Yeah, for sure. Here, I wrote a list.” Dean grinned as he handed Castiel a piece of notebook paper with a list scribbled on it. “I’m guessin’ that was Claire? She’s adorable, man.”

“Hm, yes. She is, but she also knows it and uses it to her advantage.” Castiel grumbled quietly, making Dean laugh. “Dean, this is a rather large list.”

Dean just shrugged and turned toward the store, not checking to see if Castiel followed him through the doors. The soft exclamations of surprise as he read the list told Dean he was in fact following.

“A  piñata ? Dean...”

“She’s got to have a  piñata Cas, and it’s got to be filled with her favourite things. That’s half the fun of a party. Grab a shopping cart.” Dean grinned to himself as Cas quickly complied. “And don’t worry about the cost, okay?”

Castiel argued on that point, but eventually he gave in. Over the next hour they walked every aisle, Dean constantly picking up things and throwing them in the cart. He asked Castiel for his opinions on a lot of things (“Princesses or fairies, Cas? I know they’re just plates but it’s important, dammit!”) but every time Castiel argued the price, Dean ignored him.

Finally, they got to the checkout, and Castiel nearly died when he saw the total. They had a small argument over who was paying, but eventually Dean just stole Castiel’s wallet and shoved it safely away in his pocket, then swiped his own debit card to pay.

Dean had continued to argue happily with Castiel, refusing any paybacks the entire way back to the car. By the time they had everything loaded into the  trunk of the  Impala , they  were both laughing. 

“Dean...” Castiel started, reaching over to touch Dean’s arm.

Dean shut the trunk and turned, only to find himself definitely much closer to Castiel than he had been previously. His breath caught in his chest, Castiel’s hand on his arm feeling warm enough to leave a brand on his skin. Castiel’s eyes seemed to flit over his face, the blue in them seeming slightly darker than normal. They weren’t touching aside from Castiel’s hand on his arm, but Dean felt as though there was no distance between them for once.

“...Thank you for this, Dean. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Castiel told him quietly, not breaking his gaze.

“Anytime, Cas. Seriously. I get it. She’s your world, and  I want you both to be happy .”

Castiel seemed to pause  in surprise  for a second, his eyes searching Dean’s as though asking a question. Dean tilted his chin up slightly, answering without words , because yeah, he absolutely meant what he said. He wet his lips slightly, nervous ly , and didn’t miss the way Castiel’s gaze immediately dropped to them.

“Dean... If you don’t move _ right now _ , I may not be able to stop myself from touching you.” Castiel almost  _ growled,  _ the  struggle of restraining becoming obvious.

“So, don’t then.” Dean breathed , though somewhat nervously. “Don’t stop.”

Dean watched the moment that Castiel’s restraint broke. There was nothing gentle about the way Castiel surged forward to crash their lips together, his hands coming to grip Dean’s hips almost painfully  in a way that made Dean certain he  would have bruises. Somehow, that didn’t bother him in the slightest. When he felt Castiel’s tongue flicker across his closed lips he let out a soft groan and  parted his lips to grant entrance . Dean found his mind going fuzzy as Castiel licked into his mouth greedily with a passion Dean  could  _ feel,  _ the kind of passion that he  had only  dreamed about and read in books .

His  arms instinctively snaked around Castiel’s waist, drawing him closer for a moment , but he didn’t stop there. His hands  continued to move up until he could grip the back of Cas’ shoulders, pulling him harder into the kiss. Dean found himself completely lost in Castiel’s movements against his lips, the man dominating the contact completely.  Finally, when they were both breathless , they drew apart, but not without several soft, tender kisses from Castiel on Dean’s comfortably bruised lips.

When Castiel drew away for the final time, Dean couldn’t deny the soft whimper that escaped him as he tried to chase Castiel's lips. Castiel chuckled softly, resting his forehead against Dean’s as they both kept their eyes closed for just a moment longer, neither of them seeming to want to move away.

“Dean, I’m struggling to control myself as it is. If we don’t stop... ” Castiel trailed off, his voice rough.

“Yeah... Yeah, we should stop. ” Dean nodded, even though he made no move to put distance between them.  “We got a party to get  set up. ”

Castiel let out another soft chuckle , then seeming as though it was the most difficult thing in the world, he took a step away from Dean to put some distance back between them.  Dean had to admit, he found  it comforting that Castiel seemed to be struggling with this as much as he was. It gave him hope that maybe there was still a chance for them ,  after all. Still, he couldn’t help the soft, disappointed sigh as he dropped his eyes away.

“We do. But first...” Castiel reached out a hand and gently brought his fingers under Dean’s chin, making him look  back  up. “ I f you would like to do this, I want to do it properly this time.  Would you join me on a date?”

“A... Date?” Dean asked, with a nervous smile.  “I haven’t been on a date for... Ages. Yeah, Cas. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Castiel’s face lit up then, in a way Dean hadn’t really seen happen before.  Dean could almost feel Castiel’s happiness at his answer, and the feeling lingered as Castiel lightly kissed his knuckles then moved away to the passenger side of the  Impala. Dean lingered for a moment, thinking about that smile, and he realised he wanted to see that expression every damn day.

_ Holy shit. Did I seriously just think that?! _

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Castiel’s house was amazing, to say the least. Castiel gave directions as he drove, and Dean almost couldn’t believe it when the man directed him to pull into the driveway of a huge two-storey house. He parked in the driveway and got out almost immediately, taking in the house with a fair amount of surprise.

The porch wasn’t that big, but had enough room for a little two-seater swing on it. There were gardens and flower beds lining the path up to the house, and the scent washed over him as Castiel led him up and into the house.

Castiel gave him a quick tour downstairs, showing him a massive kitchen that Dean could imagine himself baking pies in, a big lounge room with plenty of comfortable places to sit and watch movies on lazy Sunday afternoons, as well as his office, and a separate dining room with a huge table. 

Castiel chuckled slightly at his reactions, but none so much as Dean’s reaction to the back yard.

“Holy shit, Cas... This is a weekend dream.” Dean told him quietly, looking out at the massive yard. “Why did I not know you have a pool, man?!”

“You didn’t ask.” Castiel shrugged, but he had a grin on his face. 

“Seriously! Look at all this!”

Dean stepped down onto the back porch which had enough room to host a party on its own. The grill sat off to one side, looking like it was barely used – which was a damn shame, he would have to change that. He kept walking, down the steps and onto the grassed area, looking out at the space he had to work with.

Castiel had a trampoline, a swing set, and plenty of running around room. Not to mention the trees that sprawled through the yard. He frowned slightly at one side of the yard, noticing that it seemed more bushy and garden like.

“That’s my... sanctuary, I suppose you could say. It’s a quiet area filled with plants and closed off enough to be rather quiet and peaceful. Most days there are plenty of birds, butterflies and bees, along with insects in there. It’s somewhere I feel... at peace.”

Dean glanced back at Castiel, noticing that he had an odd expression on his face. Maybe... he was being hesitant? Dean thought he might understand why.

“That sounds amazing, Cas, but you can show me when you’re ready, okay? No pressure.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel released a breath and his face cleared, and Dean knew he’d guessed correctly. “The pool is heated, just so you know.”

“Oh my god.” Dean laughed softly, glancing back to the fully fenced pool area. “We absolutely will make use of that one day.”

Dean had never seen Castiel blush, but he was pretty sure the tips of his ears went slightly pink. He couldn’t help laughing quietly, then moving to bump his shoulder against Castiel’s lightly.

“Come on, let’s go get the stuff from the car and start setting it up.”

Castiel nodded slightly and they headed back for the car. For the next few hours they worked together to set up all the decorations, confining the party to the backyard . Dean helped at first, then he went to the kitchen to bake the cake for Claire – Castiel had told him about his one attempt to bake and Dean had banned him from touching it completely.

Thankfully the kitchen had plenty of large windows looking out into the back yard, so Dean made sure to open one so that he could still talk to Cas. As it turned out, he mostly called out directions or instructions on how to decorate things, how to fill the  piñata and hang it, things like that.

Finally, he had the cake – well, a few cakes, since he was planning to cut and layer them in different colours – out of the oven and cooling down. He washed his hands clean then grabbed two beers from the fridge, completely ignoring the fact that the rest of him was covered in flour and food colouring. He stepped out onto the back porch and sighed in relief as he sunk down onto one of the chairs looking out over the back yard.

“Cas! Come have a beer.”

Castiel looked up from the fairy he had just finished tying to the party table, then smiled at Dean and immediately made his way up to the porch. He took the beer and sat in the chair beside him, looking out over the work he’d done. Dean had to admit, the yard looked completely different, and if Claire loved fairies and princesses as much as Cas said she did, she was going to love this. That made him think for a second.

“So, how’re you gonna stop Claire seeing all this shit before tomorrow?” Dean asked as he 

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Castiel asked, blinking at him in confusion. “She’s staying with Gabe tonight.”

Dean didn’t hide the grimace quite fast enough behind the bottle of beer that he took a mouthful from, and Castiel frowned as he obviously caught sight of it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. You can meet her at the party tomorrow, though.”

“You want me to come?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Yes, of course. You did most of this, Dean. And I think it would be a good opportunity for you to meet her. If... if you still want to.” Castiel looked unsure, and Dean hurried to fix that.

“No, man, I absolutely still want to. Just didn’t realise she was with Gabe.” Dean trailed off, already realising he’d said too much.

“Gabriel is my brother, Dean, and a good man. I understand that he seems... immature. But with Claire, he’s immature enough to be fun, yet mature enough to meet her needs. I trust him.”

“Cas... I didn’t mean that. He’s your family, and I wasn’t saying he couldn’t be trusted. Just, Gabe and I don’t get along so great.” Dean shrugged and looked away. “That’s all.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, staring out over the yard in thought. He could hear Castiel taking a drink beside him, then sitting quietly for a moment. Dean knew he was giving him a chance to collect his thoughts and process, like he always did. It made him wonder how the man knew him so damn well.

“Dean, you should know... There’s a reason Gabriel can be an... an assbutt.” Dean snorted a laugh when Castiel said that, but didn’t interrupt. “Gabriel is extremely protective. He’s always been protective of me, especially. Our family... well, they weren’t great. They didn’t accept me for who I am. Gabe was always the one protecting me and Jimmy. In the end, the three of us left to make our own lives. But then we lost Jimmy, and we nearly lost Claire to the fire. Jimmy... He only met Claire the once, when she was born.”

“Holy shit, Cas. I’m so sorry...” Dean reached out, gently putting his hand on Castiel’s arm for support. “Do you want to talk about it, or... I mean, you don’t have to...”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve been through a lot of therapy and come to terms with it all, and I feel comfortable enough to talk about it. I’d like you to know.” Castiel smiled back at him and covered Dean’s hand with his own, holding it there as he looked away and took a deep breath. “Jimmy was driving home to get some more clothes for Amelia and Claire. Apparently, someone was driving drunk that night, and Jimmy didn’t make it.”

“Shit... That must have been so hard.”

“Yes, it was a very difficult time for all of us. We tried to help each other, support Amelia and do everything we could. But then, six months later the fire happened, and we lost Amelia too. Nearly Claire, if it hadn’t been for the guy who got her out.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, something about Castiel’s words bothering him. He didn’t know what straight away, but there was definitely something.

_ Six months. Fire. _

Holy shit. There was no way... Dean realised he’d been quiet too long when Castiel called his name, frowning at him with concern.

“Dean? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”

“No, no, just... just thinkin’, Cas. Um... This will sound weird but... The fire, was it...” Dean could barely collect his thoughts. “It wasn’t a house on Jackson street, was it?”

The moment Castiel looked at him with wide, surprised and somewhat scared eyes, Dean knew. Claire was the little girl he’d carried out of that building five years ago, the one that haunted his dreams. Every bit of therapy, every inch of progress he’d made in the past few months seemed to disappear as he felt his chest tighten with panic again.


	13. Party Day

_One day I’ll wish upon a star, wake up where the clouds are far behind me...._

“Dean. Breathe. Just breathe with me.” 

Dean could feel Castiel take his hands and hold them against his chest, he could feel Castiel’s chest as it slowly rose and fell. His eyes were shut tight, trying to focus all of his energy on the here and now, on breathing with Castiel. 

_Where trouble melts like lemon drops, far above the chimney tops is where you’ll find me...._

“You’re safe, Dean. You’re here, with me, and you’re safe. Just breathe.” 

He focused as much as he could, trying to be aware of his breathing and finally, managing to start to slow it down. He kept his hands where they were, the warmth and firmness of Castiel grounding him somewhat. 

_Oh, somewhere, over the rainbow... blue birds fly...._

“Good boy, Dean. You’re so good.” 

Hearing those words again sent a familiar warmth flooding through his chest, and he finally opened his eyes to see Castiel kneeling in front of him. One of his hands covered Dean’s on his chest, while the other rested on his cheek, Castiel’s thumb gently stroking over his skin there. The touch was gentle, comforting, and Dean tilted his head slightly to press his cheek into Castiel’s palm. 

“There you are. Welcome back.” Castiel smiled slightly at him. 

Dean couldn’t help a soft smile in return, then laughed softly as he noticed the song playing. Damn, but Castiel knew him well. The soft tunes of ‘Over the Rainbow’ were coming from Castiel’s phone, sitting discarded on the table between the chairs. 

“Did you... Did you put music on?” 

“Hm. Yes, you always seemed to calm down faster to this, so I thought I would try it. You seem to like the song.” Castiel answered, but he didn’t move away. 

“I liked it because it... it’s just you, completely.” Dean explained, though he realised he didn’t make much sense by saying that. “Thanks, Cas. You always seem to know just what to do with me.” 

“I do try. I’m just glad I can help you on occasion.” Castiel answered with a soft smile. 

He finally moved away, and Dean couldn’t help feeling disappointed at the loss of contact. He glanced over as Castiel sat back in his chair, noticing when the man immediately turned back to him, watching him. Dean sighed softly, dropping his eyes as he always did. 

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to let my shit take over what happened to you.” 

“Dean, please stop.” Dean clamped his mouth shut, letting Castiel talk. “I admit that I am... struggling, to learn that you were involved in this. But I also have no understanding of how this may have impacted you. So, if you are ready, I will listen.” 

“I... Yeah, I think I’m ready. I just... I’m worried that you’ll...” Dean couldn’t say his feelings straight out, and he mentally kicked himself. Before he could dwell much on it, though, Castiel spoke again. 

“I will catch you, Dean. I will be here, I will support you, and I will catch you should you fall.” Castiel’s eyes stared into his, reminding him of the way that the man always seemed to see straight to his core. “I may be scared about what you will tell me, but I will not abandon you in this. Trust me, Dean.” 

“I do. I do, Cas.” Dean’s voice shook, but he didn’t break, not yet. “I... I wasn’t always like this, you know. So... so fragile...” 

Dean huffed a sarcastic laugh, and without even thinking of it, he shook the mala beads off his wrist and started running them through his fingers, counting them as he hadn’t needed to do in a while. Where he used to pull out the knife and lighter in these times, now he instinctively went for the beads instead. It was comforting, and after a deep breath, he pushed into his story. 

“I was... Sam and I, we were both firefighters. I was good, Cas, I swear. I was trained, we’d both been in it for years and we were experienced... Five years ago, though, we turned up to a house...” 

As Dean told his story, he felt his chest tightening again. But Castiel was right there to reach out and hold his hand, gently squeezing in time with his breathing. Dean found himself telling Castiel all about the day – about the choice he’d made, how terrible he had felt. How he was at fault for Amelia dying, when he could have saved her if he had just made a different choice. 

His tears finally spilled when he told Castiel how he’d stood there holding the baby – Claire, he now knew – waiting for his team to save Amelia, and knowing that he should have charged straight back in there instead. 

“Oh, Dean.” Castiel breathed when Dean had finally stopped talking and fallen silent. “Dean, there was nothing you could have done. You saved Claire, Dean. That is exactly what she begged you to do, and you did it. You can’t hold yourself responsible for her death.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t speak. The tears finally fell freely, and he choked back a sob – then he felt Castiel’s arms wrap around him in a strong grip, pulling him forward to rest against his chest. Dean buried his face into Castiel’s shoulder, shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

  
“Cas?” 

Dean was groggy, fuzzy. He knew he’d spent a long time crying, but beyond that his memory was blank. Right now, he felt weightless, his head nestled into Castiel’s neck. As seconds ticked by, he slowly came back to himself, eventually realising that he was being carried in strong arms. The back of his knees were tucked over Castiel’s arm, while his own arms wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders. 

“I’m here. I’ve got you.” Castiel answered quietly, his voice rumbling through Dean’s chest. 

Dean sighed softly and relaxed, letting himself be carried up what he assumed by the movements were stairs, held tight against Castiel’s body. He was soon deposited onto a soft bed, and almost immediately he felt Castiel curl around him, spooning against his back in a way that fit perfectly. He hummed again, pressing back into Castiel as he felt an arm wrap over him protectively. 

“I’ve got you, Dean. Sleep.” 

Dean could have imagined the soft kiss that pressed to the back of his head before he let the darkness take him under again. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

  
Dean woke slowly to the soft light of the sun peeking through the curtains. He shifted slightly, reaching out – only to find a faintly warm section of mattress beside him. He frowned, reaching further, but there was no warm body to be found. 

Finally, he opened his eyes and sat up, glancing around the unfamiliar room. Disorientated, he immediately searched for his phone, only to find it plugged into the charger and resting on the bedside table. 

After he checked the messages on his phone – at least a dozen missed calls from Sam and a few texts from Charlie – he finally dragged himself away from the warmth of the bed and followed the quiet noises all the way to the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was something to remember – Cas, shirtless and wearing only sweatpants, stood over the coffee pot, apparently making two cups of coffee. 

He waited quietly, watching as Castiel moved around the kitchen easily. Castiel seemed to sense him, as when he turned, the only reaction was his lips quirking into a smile as he held the cup out for Dean. 

“Good morning, Dean.” 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Dean grumbled as he reached for the coffee. He immediately took a sip and sighed softly as it warmed his chest. “Mm, you’re good at coffee. You can stay.” 

“One would hope so, since it is my home.” 

Dean flushed slightly, his brain catching up a little slower than his mouth as he realised what he’d said. He covered the embarrassment by taking another sip from his coffee, but judging by the slight grin on Castiel’s face, he wasn’t fooled. However, Castiel refrained from commenting, and the two drank their coffee in peace for a few moments. 

Eventually, though, Dean cleared his throat and attempted to sound unaffected. 

“So… Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but… What happened last night?” 

“Nothing untoward, I assure you.” Castiel answered immediately. “You… Well, you were having a panic attack, and while I haven’t seen it quite so bad before, I imagine that you have experienced it. You passed out after a little while, and I felt it would be better for you to stay here.” 

“Oh… Um, right.” Dean frowned down at his cup – little bits of memory were still there; about the way he’d sobbed into Castiel’s arms. “Uh… sorry, man. I didn’t mean to get so out of control.” 

“Dean.” 

Dean looked up, just in time to watch as Castiel stepped forward into his space, his mug abandoned on the counter. Castiel stared at him, holding his gaze as he slowly raised his hand, giving Dean plenty of time to back off. But Dean didn’t, and eventually he felt Castiel’s palm cup his cheek gently. 

“You never, ever have to apologise for your emotions, your mental state, anything. Not to me.” Castiel told him firmly, his gaze intense. “Never. I will be here for you every single time, and I will not judge you, I will not think less of you. You never have to hide with me. Do you understand?” 

Dean nodded slightly, but Castiel didn’t budge. He held his gaze until finally, Dean croaked out a response. 

“Yeah. Yes, I understand.” 

Castiel’s gaze softened in response to his words, and Dean couldn’t help it. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes flicking between Castiel’s, seeking out any sign of doubt. But he found no doubt in Castiel’s eyes, only kindness, and so he carefully pressed closer, shivering slightly as he felt Castiel’s breath on his lips. 

When their lips met, it was nothing like before. This was gentle, almost hesitant. Castiel’s other hand came up to cup his face as he lightly pressed their lips together, letting out a soft sigh as he did. Dean whimpered softly as he pressed forward, wanting to feel Castiel’s arms around him – the man didn’t disappoint, immediately wrapping around him and holding tight as their lips moved together. 

Dean gasped softly as Castiel nipped at his lower lip, parting his lips, his entire body on board for more, more… But Castiel drew away, his eyes shut, breathing slowly and steadily as it appeared he tried to regain control. 

“Cas…” Dean sighed as he tried to chase those lips, but Castiel’s hands cupped his face and held him away. 

“Dean, you know that I want this.” Castiel finally told him, opening his eyes. “But I want to do this right. I will not ravage you the way I want to in my kitchen right now.” 

Jesus fuck. 

If he wasn’t hard before, he certainly was now – Castiel’s voice had dropped to a gravelly tone, and his eyes – they’d gone so dark, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that he could see the blue in them anymore. But as turned on as he was, he would still respect Castiel’s choice, difficult as it was. 

Mercifully, that was the exact moment his phone decided to ring – both men stepped back in surprise as ‘Heat of the moment’ started blaring from Dean’s phone. With an apologetic look to Castiel, Dean answered. 

“This better be important, Sammy, or so help me-“ 

“So get this. The lawyer thinks we have a case. Even though Castiel quit, he thinks if we get a judge that’s willing to listen to why, then we’ll have a chance.” 

“Okay… so what’s the catch?” Dean asked, gathering from Sam’s chipper tone that there was one. 

“Well…” Sam sighed, and Dean knew he was right. “You and Castiel might have to go and be questioned.” 

“Ah. Well…” Dean glanced at Castiel for a moment. “I’ll have to talk to him about it.” 

“…You’re with him, aren’t you.” Sam’s tone changed, and Dean immediately felt himself get defensive. 

“Yeah, I am. Something to say?” 

“Just… be careful, Dean.” 

Sam didn’t give him a chance to respond, and Dean bit his lip as the anger reared up in response to the silence. Sam had actually hung up on him, purely because he was with Cas. Part of him understood and appreciated the concern, but another part – the bigger part – was angry at Sam for not trusting him to make his own damn decisions. 

He sighed with frustration as he dropped the phone on the counter and ran his hands over his face, the previous mood completely gone. As he leaned back against the counter, he felt Castiel settle beside him. Dean finally pulled his hands away from his face and glanced at Castiel with half a smile. 

“Is everything okay?” Castiel asked him quietly. 

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” Dean sighed again, frowning. “Just Sam being a dick.” 

“Your brother still doesn’t want me around.” It wasn’t a question, and Dean hated the sadness he could see on Castiel’s face. “I hope he can forgive me one day, but I also completely understand his feelings on the matter. He’s just trying to protect you.” 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Except I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around. “Anyway, he said the lawyer he’s been talking to thinks we got a chance in taking down Naomi. You’d have to give a statement, though. You cool with that?” 

“I’m not comfortable with the idea, but yes, if it’s necessary then I will do so. This sort of thing can’t be allowed to happen to someone else.” 

Dean looked at Castiel, really looked at him, for just a moment. The determination on his face was something amazing to see, and yet Dean could still see the undercurrent of worry and possibly even fear beneath it. It made him lo- like Castiel just that little bit more, and remember just how drawn to him he really was 

“Well, I’ll let Sammy know. I’ll be right there with you, so you won’t be alone.” Dean told him with a slight grin, bumping their shoulders together. It was nice to be able to say those words back. “right. Enough with the sad and miserable, we’ve got a party to host.” 

Dean rubbed his hands together excitedly and grinned. There was only an hour left until the party would start, and he planned to spend most of it making the main party food for the kids, since Gabriel was bringing the sweets. From the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel roll his eyes, yet there was a fond smile on his face as he followed Dean to the pantry. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

The party went absolutely perfectly, Dean decided. Sure, there were a few mishaps, but at the end of the day everyone was happy. Dean and Castiel had just finished getting little sandwiches cut up to put with the rest of the food when Claire and Gabriel had arrived. 

Claire had gone from quietly happy when she waked into the house, to squealing surprise in a matter of seconds once she had caught sight of the decorations. She’d thrown her arms around Castiel, repeating ‘Thank you daddy’ several times, her face lit with joy. When Castiel told her that Dean had done most of it, she’d eyed him warily for a few moments before thanking him several times, too. 

Claire was wary of him throughout the day, but he didn’t mind. He stood back, stayed out of the way and chatted with some of the parents. Nobody got knocked out during the piñata game, and the dozen or so of Claire’s friends seemed to have fun. At least, that was until Dean heard a woman yell, and a boy turn away from Claire with a bloody nose. 

He glanced around for Castiel, but he wasn’t around – nor, did it seem, was Gabriel. 

_Fan-freaking-tastic. First day meeting Claire and now you’re gonna go parent her._

Dean grumbled internally, but still made his way over to the commotion quickly. He had to hand it to Claire, she was pretty daunting as she stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring daggers that could kill at the boy. God, he hoped he wasn’t going to have to tell her off, because that wasn’t his place. 

As he drew up to the group he caught the woman yell at Claire and raise a hand – _Oh hell no_ – so Dean immediately inserted himself in front of Claire, facing down the woman with his hands raised, palms out, in a placating gesture. 

“Whoa, whoa, okay, what’s going on?” 

“She punched my son!” The woman yelled at him. 

“He started it!” Claire yelled from behind him. When Dean glanced back at her with a questioning look, she shrugged. “He always pulls my hair and pinches me. Then he tripped me, and it hurt, so I punched him.” 

“Oh my god, you punched him for that?” The woman rolled her eyes mockingly, and Dean went from uncertain to immediate dislike of this woman. And her kid, for that matter, who was standing behind her with a smirk. “Don’t you know that just means he likes you?” 

“…Excuse me?” Dean asked after a pause, his eyebrows shooting up. 

“Oh come on.” The woman laughed. “We all know little boys pick on girls because they like them.” 

Dean was silent for a beat, anger raising fast. He stayed silent though, fully aware that a party of children were watching, and their parents were ready to judge his actions. After a few moments of steady breathing, he turned back to Claire. 

“Claire, go find your father. I’ll deal with this.” 

Claire nodded slightly and with a worried expression, took off. Dean turned back to the woman, his face calm, but his eyes blazing with fury. 

“Is that what you teach your kid? That it’s okay to abuse someone if he likes them? Cause honey, that’s the stepping stones for abusive relationships. Yeah it’s natural to start with but you’re supposed to teach him that hurting people to get their attention isn’t okay. You’re not meant to make excuses and tell kids to allow abuse just because someone likes them. What’re you gonna do if he’s the one getting pushed around when he grows up? Gonna tell him it’s just because the person likes him and to deal with it?” 

Dean glared at the woman as he finally paused for breath, daring her to argue with him. And of course, she was just the kind of stuck up, can’t-see-past-the-end-of-her-nose kind of person that immediately adopted a haughty expression and tried to argue. 

“Seriously? It’s harmless. She punched him, though-“ 

“No, she shouldn’t have punched him. But maybe he’ll learn better than you’re teaching him.” Dean growled. “Leave. And don’t be surprised if Claire doesn’t want anything to do with either of you.” 

With that, Dean turned and stormed back into the house, leaving the woman and her kid in stunned silence. He noticed Castiel and Gabriel standing on the porch, watching him with shocked expressions – but he didn’t pause, too angry to talk about it straight away. 

When Castiel found him ten minutes later, his anger had faded away to leave doubt and worry. He glanced up as Castiel entered the bedroom, then dropped his eyes again to his hands as he sat on the bed. 

“Sorry, Cas. I know, it’s not my place, just…” 

“Dean.” Castiel stopped him and surprised Dean with a sudden warm hug, his arms wrapping tight around Dean. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I saw everything, and I appreciate what you did. You were right – and I asked them to leave and not to contact us again. Both her and her son’s behaviour was entirely inappropriate.” 

“Oh.” Dean breathed out the pent up breath he had been holding, and after a moment, he laughed softly. “Did you see that kid’s nose, though? She got him good.” 

“Well, I did raise her to stand up for herself.” Castiel answered quietly, but there was a slight grin on his face. “Come on, there’s still half an hour of this party to go.” 

Dean smiled slightly, feeling a lot better than he had been, and followed Castiel back out to the party. He was surprised that a few of the parents actually talked to him now, and agreed with what he’d said. The most surprising thing, though, was when Claire silently came and gave him a tight hug, then went back to her friends without a word. 

The rest of the day went without any problems, and sooner than he wanted, it was over and he was home, looking forward to their date the next night. 


	14. Date night

Dean  ran his hands down his front for about the thousandth time, staring at his reflection with a frown. He’d fixed his hair, shaved, pulled on some nice dark jeans and a burgundy button up – but it still wasn’t enough, he thought. He sighed in frustration, staring at the shirts thrown over the bed in annoyance. He’d tried all of them and somehow, this seemed to be the best he was going to get.

Finally, as much as he didn’t want to, he left his bedroom and walked down the hall to the kitchen. 

“Alright, Sammy. What  d’ya think?”

Sam turned away from the coffee machine to glance at him, and Dean watched as a slight smile spread over his little brother’s face. There was almost a hint of pride in that smile, and it warmed Dean, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“You look great, Dean. You’re gonna knock him for six.”

A shadow passed over Sam’s face then, and Dean quickly steered the conversation a different way, not wanting to deal with Sam’s dislike of Cas on their first date night.

“Thanks, man. You too, you look amazing. Jess’ parents are gonna love you.”

“Ugh.” Sam grimaced. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t.” Dean grinned, and clapped him on the shoulder. “All they need to do is take one look at your lovey-dovey eyes on Jess and they’ll accept you.”

Sam shouldered him off grumpily, but Dean could see the s mile on his face that showed  how much he needed to hear that.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

_ Knock  _ _ knock _ _. _

Dean frowned slightly at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Granted it was about the time Castiel said he was going to pick him up, but Dean had expected him to be waiting in the car. 

When Dean opened the door, however, there was Castiel – and holy shit, Dean was speechless. Castiel was wearing the same clothes he had when they’d first met – dark jeans, with a white button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Dean would have kissed him right there, had Castiel not held out a bouquet of roses.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel quite clearly looked him up and down. “You look amazing tonight.”

“Uhm. Thanks, Cas. You too, you look just… wow.” Smooth,  d D ean, real smooth. Dean’s cheeks flushed as he took the roses, not willing to admit how much it made him melt that Castiel had actually bought him roses. “I’ll just um… yeah. Come in.”

Dean flushed again out of embarrassment, though Castiel was grinning slightly. Dean turned and went to put the roses in a vase, placing it next to the coffee machine. And no, he wasn’t going to admit he put them there so that he would see them every morning.

“Hello Sam.” Castiel’s voice sounded slightly strained, and Dean frowned as he turned to find Sam staring at Castiel with his arms folded over his chest.

Oh for fucks  sake…

“Castiel.” Sam nodded slightly, but didn’t move. “Dean says you will be okay with providing a statement for the court hearing?”

“Yes, of course. I  want  to make sure this cannot happen to anybody else.” Castiel answered, dropping his head slightly. “Of course, I would do my utmost to keep  details about my relationship with Dean out of it, while still being truthful.”

Dean watched as  Sam visibly relaxed , unfolding his arms and nodding slightly. While Dean was annoyed as hell that  Sam still couldn’t forgive Castiel, part of him understood why. Shit, he’d be worse if someone had hurt Sam – but, he stayed quiet, knowing that this was the only way the two would resolve things.

“I appreciate that. ” Sam actually smiled slightly, and while they weren’t friendly, it was progress in Dean’s eyes. “ Anyway, you two should be going, right?”

“Yes, we absolutely should, if you’re done here.” Dean answered immediately with a meaningful , annoyed  look at Sam. “Come on Cas.”

“Yes, of course. It was nice to see you again, Sam.” Castiel smiled as Dean  took his hand, leading him to the door.

Dean  couldn’t help the soft smile on his face and the warm feeling inside as Castiel held his chair out for him. Castiel had brought him roses, held doors open for him, and now held his chair as he sat, absolutely pampering him. He couldn’t deny that it was nice to be treated like this – it was something he’d often done for others, the women he’d dated, and always secretly wished someone would do for him.

“Thanks for this,  Cas. This place is amazing.” Dean glanced around as Castiel sat down across from him, taking in their surroundings.  “ Is that seriously a fireplace?”

Castiel chuckled softly as Dean took in the restaurant. It wasn’t modern at all, in fact the restaurant made him feel like he was in an old cabin, far away from towns and people and hidden somewhere in a forest. The interior was decorated in a way that made it feel warm and cosy, to the point that there were two comfortable looking couches near the fireplace. 

“We can sit by the fire after dinner, if you’d like.” Castiel told him.

Dean nodded enthusiastically, making Castiel chuckle again. They ordered their food, then talked lightly as they waited for it to arrive. Once it came, along with beer for the both of them, Dean couldn’t help but immediately take a test bite of his steak. As soon as he did, he couldn’t help the moan that left his mouth at the taste.

“ Oh my god, Cas this is amazing.” Dean mumbled around his bite.

“ Yes … yes, the food here is quite good.” 

Castiel’s voice was strained again, and Dean looked up with concern. But what he saw had him smirking slightly, pleased with the reaction his uncontrolled moment had wrought. Even though Castiel was staring down  intently  at his own food, Dean could clearly see the darkness to his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks. 

Dean wanted to see how far he could take the teasing, but he also respected Castiel and wanted their first date to be perfect. So, after he swallowed his bite, he asked Castiel how his day had been, general small talk questions.

They chatted lightly over dinner, until finally moving over to the couch as Castiel had promised. Castiel actually looked nervous as he sat close to Dean, which he found endearing.

“Have you enjoyed the night so far?” Castiel asked Dean seriously as he stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace.

“Yeah, I have. This is awesome, Cas. Thanks for bringing me here.” Dean smiled at him and shifted slightly closer, so that he was leaning against Castiel.

“Hm. I’m glad you like it.” Castiel answered quietly, though there was an undercurrent of tension that Dean picked up on. “Dean... I know this probably isn’t the right time, but I feel like if we pursue this, we should be open and honest with each other...”

“Of course, Cas.” Dean frowned as he straightened and looked at Castiel again, noting the tension in his face. “What’s wrong?”

Castiel breathed out in a sigh, his eyes flitting between Dean’s carefully.

“We never got a chance to finish our conversation the other night... about what happened before, with the fire.” Dean tensed slightly at the words, but Castiel’s hand over his reminded him to breathe steadily. “I think we need to. Especially because I know you, the way your self-blame and doubt works. Is that okay?”

Dean paused for a moment, surprised that Castiel had asked if it was okay, especially so calmly. He breathed slowly, steadily, ready to listen and accept that Castiel would never forgive him for what had happened, but hopefully they could work through it.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Just... You’ll keep me grounded, right?” Dean asked carefully, remembering Missouri’s words for what Castiel was doing for him. Grounding him.

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel smiled gently and took his hand, squeezing it lightly to punctuate his words. “I’m right here.”

“Okay. Okay.” Dean nodded, but couldn’t think of what else to say. How was he supposed to make this okay? As it turned out, Castiel spoke first.

“Dean, I need you to understand something first. What you told me, I imagine was extremely difficult, and you worried about my reaction.” Castiel told him, and Dean nodded slightly. “I do not blame you at all, Dean. You were not at fault for Amelia’s death.”

Dean’s head shot up with surprise, meeting Castiel’s eyes with confusion.

“But-”

Castiel shook his head.

“No, Dean. I knew Amelia. She would have made that decision knowing she wouldn’t make it out of that house. She had already inhaled too much smoke; that much was clear in the reports we received. In her final moments she asked you to do something, to save her child, and you did exactly that. You didn’t fail, Dean.  If you had not acted the way you did, neither of them would have lived. ”

Dean was silent, shocked that Castiel – the one who lost his family – was comforting Dean and telling him that he wasn’t at fault. He dropped his eyes, almost automatically removing his beads from his wrist as he so often did now, counting them through his fingers as he thought over Castiel’s words. It was as though Castiel had just absolved him of guilt.

In that moment every nightmare he’d had, picturing the child’s family blaming him, was shattered and within him, he felt the truth of Castiel’s words. It wouldn’t be instant; he knew that healing was a long and hard road – but for the first time he felt like maybe there was a possibility that he could move past this. Maybe he could get better and move forward.

Castiel somehow seemed to understand exactly what he needed, and strong arms pulled him in and held him securely. Dean shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around Castiel and resting his head on the man’s chest, just listening to his heart and breathing. He was surprised to find after a while that no tears or panic came.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean finally mumbled, and Castiel hummed lightly into his hair. “ I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” Castiel asked lightly, moving to rest his chin on Dean’s head. 

“Just… you’re so good, and kind, and accepting about everything.  I don’t get it .”

“Well, it took me time to learn to be the way I am . I could tell you about it , if you’d like. Though perhaps not here.” Castiel answered.

“ Yeah, I would like that.” Dean sat up so he could  look at Castiel , noticing the way he glanced around at the nearby people. “You  wanna come back to the apartment and we can talk more? ”

Castiel agreed, and soon they had paid and left the restaurant. Dean was surprised but happy when  he felt  Castiel  take his hand, lacing their fingers together as they drove back to Dean’s apartment .  He noticed that Castiel never took his eyes off the road, but he looked slightly nervous. Dean squeezed his hand  gently, and watched as Castie l’s face softened as he relaxed .

Once they got back to the apartment, Dean immediately went and got them each a beer.  Sam  wasn’t home yet, so it was just the two of them as they sat close on the couch,  each taking a sip of the beer.

“So, uh… what happened to you?” Dean asked after a few beats of silence, regretting his choice of words almost immediately. “I mean -”

“It’s okay, Dean.” Castiel sighed softly, taking a large mouthful from his bottle before twisting it in his hands, staring down. “It’s a long story, but basically…  I had a big family. But, after I came out as gay,  my parents and siblings disowned me. Gabriel and I were always close, so he and I left. It broke me that Jimmy wouldn’t come with us… but eventually the three of us started talking again.”

Dean  noticed that Castiel had finished his  beer, and held a hand up to pause him. He  went to get them each another, and returned with the open bottles, placing one into Castiel’s hand. As he sat, he reached over to  rest his hand on Castiel’s leg, offering support but not interrupting.

“ It was nice that we were talking again , but also  very difficult . Gabriel and Jimmy would often argue, and Jimmy still held onto a lot of our parents’ beliefs.  I had to become the peacekeeper somewhere in between.  So I sought therapy, and found myself learning how to remain confident and calm.  That is also the time that I discovered a certain club, and what it meant to be a dominant. I found that I suited the role quite well, and it brought back the control in my life that I had been seeking. ”

Castiel paused, taking another mouthful from his bottle as he glanced at Dean from the corner of his eye. Dean felt himself flush slightly, remembering their previous arrangement as Castiel lifted one eyebrow while staring at him in an almost challenging way.

_ Down, boy. Not the time. _

“ Shit , Cas. That’s… a lot to go through .” A lot was an understatement, and Dean frowned slightly. “I mean, it’s huge. And for you to be who you are now… You’re awesome.”

Castiel shrugged slightly, but there was a lift to his lips that told of his smile. 

“I believe that I finally had a chance to learn who I really was the whole time. I was finally allowed to be free, but I had to learn how. ”

Dean nodded slightly, but he was staring down at the half empty bottle in his hands, wondering. Could he learn how to be himself again, like Cas had? He felt like he was starting to learn, with the help of Missouri and his family and friends. Castiel’s next words encouraged that thought, warming him.

“Dean, you are well on your way to doing the same. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean lifted his head and smiled at the man beside him, before taking another mouthful of beer. “And thank you for telling me about your past.  It means a lot that you trusted me with that.”

“I would trust you with my life. My past is but a small part of that.” Castiel answered seriously, holding Dean’s gaze.

Dean stared for a few moments,  unable to tear his eyes away. Sitting here with Castiel like this, it made him feel something  _ more _ . He felt like he could trust Castiel with everything, trust him to be there beside him through anything that life could throw at him. He felt like this – what he and Castiel had – was something heady and pure and dangerous, all at the same time.

“I’ll... uh… beer?” Dean stammered , breaking the gaze as Castiel’s lips quirked in amusement.

“Please.” Castiel answered quietly, holding the empty bottle out.

Dean took it as he stood and headed toward the kitchen, still flushed red.  Goddamnit , he was trying to keep control, because this so wasn’t the time – but somehow, with Castiel, this sort of thing always happened. A serious moment could turn on  it’s its head to become heated in seconds, it always had with them. Somehow, they were already so comfortable with each other, and it scared him a little.

As Dean pulled two more beers out of the  fridge, he turned to place them on the counter,  so that he could open each before heading back to the couch.  However, Castiel was suddenly behind him, lightly placing on hand over Dean’s to make him pause.  He turned with a slight frown, worried something was wrong – only to find Castiel standing  so close to him that there was barely space between them.

“…Cas?” Dean asked quietly, his cheeks flushing yet again as Castiel stared at him.

“Dean. ” Castiel breathed his name quietly as his hand came up to gently cup Dean’s cheek. 

Dean could feel his own  heart beat in his chest as he stared into Castiel’s eyes , feeling lost in those blue depths. His hands moved down to grip the counter behind him as he leaned back into it, trying to retain  some kind of control . Castiel’s body followed him, however, pressing him back against the counter as  Castiel drew closer, eyes trained on Dean’s lips.

“Cas… I can’t…” Dean gulped, then took a breath and released it in the next statement. “Please don’t tell me  we need  to stop.”

Dean stared as Castiel’s eyes flickered between his, seeming to  come to a conclusion . Then before he knew what was happening, Castiel’s lips were crashing into his, pure passion coming to a head. Dean let out a soft whimper and released the counter from his grip, moving his hands to immediately c ome up and wrap around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Castiel’s body pressed against his and, aside from the hard line of the counter against his back, he could feel the hard ness of Castiel’s arousal pressing against his own.  Heat shot through him, and as Castiel’s tongue lapped against his lips, he simultaneously  parted his lips and moved his hands to the buttons on Castiel’s shirt.

Dean needed to  _ feel _ , and as he fumbled with the buttons of Castiel’s shirt, the man chuckled into the kiss lightly. Castiel moved as Dean finished with the buttons, allowing him to slide the shirt off his shoulders and drop to the floor. Dean whined softly as Castiel’s lips left his, but was rewarded moments later at the feeling of kisses trailing along his jaw, then down his neck.

Castiel nipped lightly at his collarbone, and Dean gasped softly as his hips bucked forward involuntarily. 

“Bed. Bed, we need to… bed.” Dean mumbled softly, struggling to string a sentence together as Castiel’s lips pressed into the join between his neck and shoulder.

“Hmm, yes… that would be more… comfortable.” Castiel responded, and Dean was pleased to note that he was also struggling to form words properly. “Where…?”

Oh, right. Castiel  didn’t know where his bedroom was.  Dean was hardly in a coherent enough state of mind to guide them there, so instead he mumbled directions between  sucking soft marks into Castiel’s shoulder.

“Hallway. ” Dean groaned as Castiel’s hands slid down over his ass and gripped his thighs from behind, then actually lifted him, bringing  Dean’s legs around his waist. “ First on the left.”

Dean abandoned Castiel’s shoulder to crash his lips against Castiel’s again, not caring how it made the man struggle more than he already was to direct them away from the kitchen and to the bedroom. He nipped lightly at Castiel’s bottom lip, reveling in the soft groan that it brought, even as Castiel weaved across the hall, bumping them roughly against walls.

As they finally entered the room, Dean chuckled as Castiel shoved the door shut with his foot, then moments later he was falling. As Dean landed on the bed, Castiel followed, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to hurt Dean. 

“Gods, Dean...” Castiel murmured as he sat back slightly, his eyes raking over Dean’s body. “I need to see you.”

Dean wasted no time working on his own buttons as Castiel stared at him with darkened eyes that made heat shoot through him with an intensity that surprised him. He shrugged the shirt off, and threw it to the side as he stared at Castiel again, waiting for a direction.

“Do you remember our safe words?” Castiel asked breathlessly.

“Yeah.” Dean gulped with a nod. “Impala, and red.”

“Good boy.”

This warmth that spread through him was so different from before. This time it spread from his chest, through his abdomen, and straight through his cock.  The words turned him on in a way that he'd never experienced before.

“Now,” Castiel’s voice dropped even lower as he fixed Dean with a commanding stare. “I want you to take your pants off, and do nothing else. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes.” Dean answered, then with Castiel’s questioning eyebrow, continued. “Yes, sir.”

Dean moved quickly, popping the button on his trousers and lifting his ass so he could pull them down. He shuffled them off, every bone in his body straining to palm his erection as it sprang free, but he managed to hold off. Castiel had ordered him not to.

“Good boy.” Castiel told him as he finally lay, completely naked, under him. “You may touch yourself now, while I remove my own pants.”

And boy, did he. As Dean watched Castiel slowly strip his pants off, he wrapped a hand around himself, gripping tight but only stroking slowly. Even that was enough to have him release a  guttural moan, his eyes slipping shut for a moment. God, but it felt so good, much better than normal.

“Stop.” Castiel ordered, and Dean’s hand immediately stilled as his eyes shot open. “Good boy. You’re so good for me, Dean.”

Dean whimpered softly at the words, another jolt of heat shooting through him. He didn’t have time to respond, however, as Castiel’s lips claimed his once again, the man’s tongue flicking out. Dean parted his lips immediately with a soft moan, letting Castiel’s tongue invade his mouth in the most delicious way.

His head fell back, breaking the kiss with a groan as he felt Castiel’s cock slide against his. The man chuckled quietly, leaning down to press his lips against Dean’s throat as he ground their hips together.

“Lube?” Castiel asked.

Dean fumbled over to the bedside table, throwing the top drawer open and fumbling around for the little purple bottle he kept there. He finally found it, and Castiel huffed a breath of laughter as Dean pressed it roughly, urgently into his hand. Not moments later, he heard the telltale click of the bottle opening, and Castiel’s hand was gone, though his mouth remained as he nipped along Dean’s neck.

“Fuck, Cas... Cas, please.” Dean whimpered softly, writhing under his ministrations.

“Shh, Dean. I’ve got you.” Castiel soothed as he shut the bottle again, his slicked hand moving down.

In moments, Dean felt Castiel’s hand wrap around both of their cocks, stroking them together. Dean’s hips lifted as he let out a loud moan, barely able to control himself as the heat built in his abdomen. Castiel’s slicked hand stroked them together, and somehow the press of Castiel’s hard cock against his own as he thrusted into his hand had Dean crying out, bucking his hips up senselessly.

“Cas... Please...” Dean gasped, his hands shooting up to grip Castiel’s sides painfully as he sobbed. “Please, please...”

“Not... not going to last...” Castiel grunted, right before he dropped his head down and sucked a bruise into Dean’s neck.

“Fuck!” Dean cried out, his body arching up as he pulled at Castiel. “Fuck  fuck ... Cas, I’m gonna...”

“Come for me, Dean. Come on me.” Castiel breathed as he released the suction, then immediately bit down on Dean’s neck, hard.

Dean’s vision went white as he screamed out, his cock pulsing once, twice, then shooting out ropes of come between them. Castiel grunted, a long and deep  guttural groan above him as he pressed into Dean hard, holding himself there – then his body went rigid, and Dean felt the added wetness of Castiel’s come as it joined with his, a wet and sticky mess between them.

Castiel collapsed onto him, pressing him into the mattress as they breathed heavily together. They slowly came down from their high, wrapped around each other, and as the bliss wore off Dean found himself worrying slightly. 

Would Castiel want to leave immediately? Would he want to talk? Dean wasn't sure he could talk about what happened right now, he needed time to process and prepare himself. Moments later however, Dean felt Castiel slide off him and briefly panicked – but it was only for a moment as Castiel laid himself out on the bed, then gently wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him close, spooning against his back. Dean could feel the stickiness against his back and grimaced slightly, though it didn't make him want to pull away. If anything, he snuggled closer into that strength, that warmth.

“We should clean up...” Dean mumbled, but he knew that his voice came out tired and sleepy. His eyelids were already drooping.

“We should.” Castiel answered softly, sleepily, then dropped a soft kiss to Dean’s shoulder. “In the morning. Sleep.”

“Hmm.” Dean hummed softly, and he knew he should argue, but he couldn’t - the way Castiel’s arm was wrapped securely around him, he never wanted to move.

He found himself drifting off moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Sorry this chapter took awhile, bit of a block but I hope you like it. I didn't quite meet my own expectations but what the hell, right? I'll make it up to you, swear.
> 
> Heads up, there won't be an update this weekend. I need some time to regroup and get ahead so I don't miss my own deadline again, so I'm going to skip this weekend and prepare more time for a great update next weekend. We'll be back onto weekly updates before you know it!
> 
> I love you all and thank you for reading!


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